


Poison Gold

by Bambifawn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omegaverse, SEP era, Slow Burn, give it a try even if it's not your thing, this is not your typical A/B/O fic trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 59,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8628334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bambifawn/pseuds/Bambifawn
Summary: It’s been two years since fresh-faced farm boy Jack Morrison conned his way into the military – hiding his omega status to prove a point to his embittered family. Overconfident and cocky, it’s not until he finds himself recruited into SEP that he starts to wonder how long he can keep up the act, especially when his enigmatic aura starts to attract the suspicions of his new senior officer, a certain alpha named Gabriel Reyes …





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, look, I know the premise of this fic sounds cliché as all hell but let me indulge myself goddammit. 
> 
> #not-your-typical-ABO-fic-I-promise!  
> Roughly following the original canon story (as if we actually know what that is rn lol), starting in the SEP Era. 
> 
> You can also find me at: https://outtamylawn.tumblr.com/

 

_Just breathe._

Jack stood in the hall, immobile, back straight, waiting for his number to be called. Sharp rows of young soldiers, all tensed in identical stances filled the space around him.  

It was finally happening; his induction into the Solider Enhancement Program!

_You can do this._

In lieu of taking an anxious gulp of air, Jack clenched his teeth, careful to keep his gaze straight ahead, expression entirely neutral.

Numbers were being called. One by one, the men around him siphoned off into smaller rows at the front of the hall. Most were betas on the higher end of the spectrum; the types of men who could do a passable impression of an alpha until someone got a good nose at their scent, or a _real_ alpha showed up to offer comparison. A few of those real alphas were scattered throughout the ranks too, but they were something of a rarity; a prestigious commodity to the army that came with all the perks one would expect when eighty percent of the population was somewhere on the beta scale.

Jack ground his teeth a little tighter. He knew he blended in; the two microscopic implants in the crook of his inner arm couldn’t fail him. With one to repress his heats and one to artificially alter his distinctive omega scent, Jack felt assured nothing was going to blow his cover now. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d risked his life to get access to this highly illegal medication, to get _this_ far … Nothing was going to stop him now. For all intents and purposes, Jack Morrison had been living, breathing and fighting as a mid-ranged beta for the best part of two years, and it was going to stay that way.

“76: Morrison!”

Jack’s shoulders hunched; that was him.

He stepped forward.

“Pack 8, with Officer Reyes.”

With a curt nod Jack strode over to the row he’d been assigned to.

One hundred new recruits, all waiting to be split into ten groups of ten, each ‘pack’ placed under the care of a senior officer who had already completed the enhancement program. “You will eat, sleep, train and receive enhancement treatments with your pack.” An official had barked this all out to them right at the very start. “You will obey your commanding officer without question. You will submit to the treatments given to you, regardless of _any_ side effects. Remember that you are the privileged few – the chosen ones – who have been hand-picked to receive this _honor_. Not all of you will make it to the end. Not all of your bodies will be compatible … but we shall see. Devote yourself fully to the program – to serving and protecting your country – and let us find the _real men_ lurking somewhere amongst this bunch of snivelling boys I see before me!”

_“Yessir!”_

Almost automatically, Jack had barked out the required reply.

He hardly dared to breathe while the rest were sorted – it seemed to take an age, but as Jack’s spine began to ache from having to stand so stiffly, the officers finally stepped forward, no doubt keen to get a look at their new charges.  

All of them had been supplied with a file detailing the stats of each of the men; the soldiers’ profiles gleaming white and blue on the holoscreens floating above the officers’ upturned hands.

Still facing straight ahead, Jack let his eyes slip sideways. Officer Reyes was undoubtedly an alpha; the sheer confidence in his body language marked him as one. Stuck in a room full of young men all in the peak of their physical prime, some might have found it challenging to ascertain _who_ exactly was _what_ … but Jack still knew. He always knew, even when he was surrounded – and near overwhelmed - by so many different scents; so many unfamiliar faces … Jack’s omega senses were naturally more attuned to picking alphas out, and he hated himself for it.

“At ease.”

All ten of the men relaxed slightly, Jack included; his shoulders dropped a little, posture marginally less tense after the gruff command. Good – this was a good sign! Not all of the officers allowed it, Jack noted, before quickly snapping his focus back onto his own pack. Maybe this one wouldn’t be so bad …

Jack had already endured his fair share of officers during the two years he’d trained and worked as a regular soldier. A good one was worth his weight in gold. A bad one … well … Jack didn’t want to jinx the moment by dragging up old and painful memories. Being drafted without consultation into a ‘pack’ was unnatural enough as it was. Every young man in the hall would feel the awkwardness of it grating up against their instincts – packs usually took _years_ to form; were tight-knit hierarchies built up through family bonds and relationships and deep, powerful friendships …

Here in the army, things were clearly going to be different.

Jack knew they all had no choice but to accept it; there was no time to let things develop naturally, no leeway to allow people to choose their own loyalties. It was the alphas who would find it the most difficult – to be expected to show subservience to a man they’d yet to accept as more dominant on their own … It would fray their instincts as much as Jack’s instincts were constantly frayed in a completely different way, but there’d be few complaints, at least out in the open. After all, they’d all signed up for this – a life of next to no choices and very little freedom.

Jack felt his lips quirk into a faintly bitter smile at the thought. Existence in the army world was all hard graft, a shitton of rules, and plenty of pre-decided structures, eased only by the distant promise that maybe, just maybe there’d be some fame or glory or the satisfaction of knowing they’d done the ‘right thing’ for their country fluttering somewhere in the far-off horizon.

Jack wasn’t sure what _his_ reason was anymore.

Something nagging in the back of his mind reminded him that this program sounded dubious – possibly even dangerous.

His stubborn pride simply replied that he’d come too far to turn back.

Officer Reyes slowly made his way down the line, flicking through the file on his holoscreen, stopping before each man to exchange a few words; a greeting, an inspection. He didn’t look hugely older than them; perhaps half a decade or so. His short, neatly cropped beard added to the impression. Jack tried to discreetly study the alpha's appearance. Brown skin, black hair, dark eyes. Probably Latino – but there was no trace of any accent save for a languid Californian drawl. He was handsome, Jack supposed; not conventionally, but in a rugged, surly, roughed-up kind of way … Provided you like that kind of thing, of course.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Jack darted his curious gaze away. He knew he shouldn’t stare. If he got caught, he’d be called out on it for sure.

“Morrison.”

“Yes sir.” Jack straightened his back. Officer Reyes stopped in front of him; slightly taller, impressively bulkier. For the briefest of seconds Jack allowed his eyes to wonder freely over the other man’s broad shoulders, admiring his thick biceps while Reyes glanced down at the holoscreen. It wasn’t the physique of a normal alpha … nor even an alpha who’d trained extensively. Jack swallowed, two parts jealous and one part … intrigued. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about these ‘enhanced’ officers felt different - the way they moved, the sheer energy they seemed to radiate … It was … potent. Jack’s mind began to whirl as his senses tingled, trying to figure it out. Was this what happened to them after the process was complete?! All that muscle, that _strength_ … Would he end up the same way, too?

Jack couldn’t deny the coil of anticipation he got in his stomach at the thought. He wanted it, was greedy for it; had been yearning for a chance like this for so long-!

_“Morrison!”_

A sharp voice snapped Jack back out of his reverie.

“S-Sorry, sir …?”

He’d been asked a question. Somehow Jack knew this, but he couldn’t for the life of him recall what it was.

Officer Reyes didn’t look too impressed. A scowl slid onto his face, dark brows drawing together even more as his gaze flicked back down to the holoscreen. “From Indiana.”

That wasn’t a question, but Jack answered it anyway.

“Yes sir.”

“What do you parents do?”

“M-My family runs their own agriculture business-”

“-Hn.” Officer Reyes grunted. “A farm boy.”

Jack didn’t react to that provocation at all. Army banter was a law unto itself; getting called ‘farm boy’ was nothing. Barely a pinprick.

“Heard a lot about you, kid.” Reyes looked up, folding those heavy arms across his chest as he banished the holoscreen before Jack could get a clear look at what was written there. “Heard you came top of your training squad, every time.”

Jack took note of the grudging admiration in Reyes’ voice and couldn’t help but curl his lips into a little smirk; he lived for that – the praise, the knowledge that he’d beaten them all – that even if they didn’t know it, his squad mates had been bested by an _omega-!_ It made Jack feel like he was capable of something after all. He could help people, serve his country, keep the peace-!

It didn’t matter what his biology dictated! Determination flooded through Jack again, roiling in its passion. He was more than his heats-! More than the stupid beliefs of this bigoted society-!

“According to the data I’ve been given, your stats rival that of most alphas …”

Jack waited.

Reyes looked him dead in the eye. “Very unusual for a beta.”

“My father raised me to believe that with hard work, anything is possible, sir.”

So smooth. So practised; the words dripped off Jack’s tongue with exactly the right amount of boyish determination.

Reyes didn’t move. His eyes flicked up and down the length of Jack’s stature once, almost imperceptibly. He sniffed. It was such a quick, offhand gesture that no one would have thought anything of it, but Jack immediately saw it for what it was; the man was trying to get a hint of his scent. Well, let him. He smelled like a beta. He _was_ a beta.  

Jack reassured himself quickly; his paranoia was in overdrive today – completely misreading the flicker in the alpha’s eyes for a look of suspicion. Why would Reyes be suspicious? No one had ever questioned Jack before, not even during one of the up-close-and-way-too-personal medical examinations he’d had to go through to get this far. Jack resisted the urge to touch the spot on the crook of his arm, where the two tiny implants lurked undetected beneath his skin. It couldn’t betray him; the technology was too finetuned, too infallible …

Another near imperceptible quiver of triumph ran through Jack’s centre as he thought about that again, soothing his nerves. Look at how many people he'd already fooled, he reminded himself. Not one single person could tell what he truly was!

It was no wonder the government had banned the sale of the scent-changers the moment their development had finalized! Bolstered by Jack's exceptional acting, they truly were a game changer.

“… Good to see that country-boy upbringing installed some strong morals in you, at least.”

Jack couldn’t help but smirk a little wider; there it was again, that undercurrent of reluctant respect.

His cheeks ached from trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Even heard some call you the ‘Golden Boy,’” Reyes went on, “but I wasn’t expecting that to be quite so … literal.”

Despite the hint of dry humour in the alpha's leisurely, low voice, Jack didn’t reply as Reyes eyed his fair-haired complexion none too discreetly. Wow, how original. He almost wanted to roll his eyes. A jab at the blonde. Fair enough; such a silvery-white shade was fairly uncommon, at least for a grown man, but since Jack had heard that taunt a over thousand times before it was near impossible for him to not sneer at the sheer predictability of it.

A muscle might have twitched in his cheek. Reyes pointedly arched a brow . “Got something to say, kid?”

“… No, sir.”

Jack’s insides curled beneath that look, instincts begging him to back down beneath such a scrutinizing, challenging stare. He couldn’t – wouldn’t allow himself to! Jack had long trained his body out of any omega-ish reactions, even if denying them still tore him apart on the inside. He’d perfected every response like an art, honed every reaction finer than the most talented of actors-!

Reyes was testing him; it showed in his eyes.

Jack kept his head high, chin slightly tilted up – not to show defiance, but to prove that he could take anything the alpha wanted to dish out. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t timid … and he most _definitely_ wasn’t anything an omega was stereotypically meant to be. Jack had sculpted his own personality far too thoroughly for that.

“I heard a saying once, sir … that only bad soldiers don’t want to become commander.”

So confident. Almost _too_ confident.

“Hn.” Reyes grunted again, but this time it sounded softer. Jack thought he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in those dark eyes. A reflective twist of achievement fluttered in his stomach. He waited expectantly for another gruff commendation, but his new officer was clearly a man of few words, because with a flick of his wrist Reyes went back to his holoscreen and moved on to the next recruit without further remark.

Jack’s throat ached to let out a sigh.

Well … that hadn’t been too painful.

Shakily, he tried to focus on encouraging thoughts.

He’d passed the first stage! No one suspected a thing! And, by the looks of it, Jack felt pretty sure he'd even managed to impress his new boss.

With the faintest of chuckles, the young solider pressed his lips together to hide a smile.

Dubious enhancements aside, how bad could SEP really be?!

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> If you read the first chapter quite early on, it might be worth going back and having a re-read, as I added a few paragrahps in ... Nothing hugely important, but still maybe worth a recap if you don't want to miss anything.

 

With a soft exhale Jack dropped his duffle bag down by his feet, cautiously surveying the room that was to become his new home.

For the as of yet undetermined duration of this program, Jack really hadn't held the highest of hopes for recieving any accomodation perks, but he found the space decently sized yet still comfortingly small; a pleasant and most welcome change from having to muscle in with at least ten other guys all stacked up in bunkbeds. As he'd expected, the furniture was utilitarian, the furnishings sparse, but Jack didn't mind the simplicity. He already knew he was to expect a roommate, and the two single beds on opposite sides of the walls comfirmed this.

Okay, so it wasn't the _greatest_ of situations, but compared to the sleeping arrangements Jack had previously been used to, having _one_ other person invade his personal space still felt like a wonderful increase in privacy.

Jack liked his privacy.

His arrival must have disturbed said roommate – who judging by the piles of possessions strewn haphazardly across one of the beds, hadn’t been in there much longer than him.

A door on the opposite wall clanged open.

“Yo, it’s Blondie!”

A lithe, wiry man with a shock of red hair strode into the room. Jack assessed him quickly – noting the bright, easy smile and relaxed stance; no sign of any threat.

"You're ..." Jack hesitated, trying to recall the guy’s name. Like most of the other soldiers in the program, he seemed vaguely familiar; perhaps they’d crossed paths once or twice before … but then again, with SEP rounding up the best soldiers from across the country, it was more than likely they’d never laid eyes on each other before.

“Finch. Ricky Finch. You’re Morrison, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me!”

Jack firmly shook the hand his new roommate proffered.

“Well … this ain’t half bad, huh?” Finch rolled his shoulders, shoving his belongings aside so he could flop down onto the bed. “We even got our own bathroom back there! Pure luxury!”

“Not bad …” Jack agreed. “Shame the showers are still communal, though.”

Silently, he thanked the fates for pairing him up with a beta - albeit one who's scent indicated he was pretty close to the alpha borderline. Still, a beta was a beta no matter what, and Jack didn't have any problems with that - they were usually easier to get along with. Betas were typically more chilled out, far less likely to throw their weight around, and overall, much nicer to have as roommates, Jack had come to learn.

"Can't complain." As if to confirm this, Finch shot him a lazy grin. "Especially if the food here is even a _tiny_ better than it was back at my old base ... Why, I'll be as golden as you!"

"... Starting already, huh?" Hefting his duffle bag onto the free bed, Jack let out a half-serious, long-suffering sigh.

"I get the feeling it's a tradition your buddies back at your old base would want me to continue."

"Oh, they'd love you for that, no doubt about it." Despite feeling a slight pang at the thought of the men he’d left behind, Jack forced out a wry laugh. He’d made some good friends back at basic. It felt weird to be starting all over again, and to be put into a ‘pack’ no less …

Anxieties about hierarchies flickered briefly to the forefront of Jack’s mind; his stomach twinged.

“So, uh …”After a pause, Finch spoke up again, obviously paralleling Jack's thoughts. "It feels kinda weird, huh? Just the two of us in here ... S'gonna be quiet ..."

"Mm ..."

Momentarily lost in uneasy thoughts, Jack busied himself with unpacking. He hadn't brought a huge amount; it wasn't as though the army granted much leeway for personal belongings, SEP even less so. If it didn't fit in a single bag, they couldn't bring it along, and even then the rules about prohibited items had seemed endless. Jack had rolled his eyes the first time he'd read the rules, and then felt a pang of faintly dubious unease. Some of the restrictions had certainly seemed ... extreme. For one thing, any device that could communicate with the outside world was expressively forbidden. Jack had to admit it was a daunting thought. Maybe even a constant, low-level stress factor. Even back at basic they'd been allowed to keep their personal devices, albeit limited to only access the heavily regulated, army-approved system. SEP's approach was so much stricter that according to the official induction guidelines issued to each solider, communications with friends and family were now limited to a positively archaic email system in which everything would be pre-screened at all times.

Any mention of their particpation in the project was expressively, absolutely, _repeatedly_ forbidden - to the point where Jack was growing sick of the constant reminders.

SEP was a national secret, after all; they claimed no one knew of it's existence unless directly involved. Draconian though it was, Jack reluctantly felt obliged to understand. Of course it made sense that the higher-ups would do everything possible to ensure no clandestine rumours slipped through the net - in a way, that almost added to the thrill of it.

At least _all_ of Jack’s comforts weren’t tied up in a strictly digital world.

He pulled one of said comforts out; a heavy, hard-bound comic anthology that was almost as thick as it was tall. Well-read, the edges of the glossy, vibrant cover showed scuff marks from many years of being dragged around. Jack set it carefully onto the bedside table. Not many people kept paper books anymore, but plenty of artists still favoured them as their print method of choice – a nostalgic nod to the past which Jack kind of liked.

“Wow!” Finch laughed at the sight. “You a nerd, huh?!”

“Yeah, what about it?” Smooth as silk, Jack flashed him a wide, cheeky grin – even though on the inside the simple taunt scraped at his nerves far too deeply. His omega instincts flared up, instantly fretting at the back of his mind as though he was preparing to fend off a dangerous attack. Jack hated it. He hated not being able to control himself. Wasn’t he supposed to be long trained out of this by now? Jack’s smile slipped; he quickly turned his back. All this newness, surrounded by strangers … Clearly, it was getting to him; Jack’s natural predisposition to retreat, to hide, to _submit_ … It coiled tension tight in his belly, both unnerving and frustrating him all at once. Get a grip! Jack gave himself a little mental shake. He needed to snap back into his usual persona, and fast …

Letting the banter bounce back and forth between them, with Jack pointedly making sure to give as good as he got, the wariness between the two men slowly began to ease off. Jack finished arranging his side of the room neatly. Finch put a small model of a gaming figure on his desk – “So who’s the nerd now?!” – “It’s a lucky mascot, lemon-head!” – and then spent a long time flicking through every channel on the large holoscreen fixed to the wall between them.

By the time they were due to head down to the mess hall to dine with the others, Jack felt in decidedly good spirits. Relief played a considerable part in it; privately, he’d been so worried about the program before … Doubtful, even … that he’d be able to pull something like this off. He’d hardly slept a wink last night, too tormented by near terrified thoughts. What if he’d taken this con as far as it could go?! What if he was tempting fate a little too much now? Jack still wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing. Maybe it _would_ have been smarter to stick to his original plan and head back to his family once his two-year conscription was up. It would have been enough; he’d have made his point … but then the allure of SEP’s mysterious promises had been so great, and everything had gone so smoothly so far … Jack even dared to feel a little cocky about it all now.

 _Of course_ he’d been recruited for this! He’d been at the very top of his squad! His former officers hadn’t been able to sing his praises high enough! Every test they’d thrown at him, Jack had made sure to ace. He had a reputation – one that even preceded him now, if Officer Reyes’ reaction was anything to go by.

It was meant to be – Jack kept on telling himself that – biology and bigoted society be damned!

He was _meant_ to do this! 

 

***

 

 

"So ... what do you think the treatments are gonna be like?"

"I dunno ..." Jack stared up at the dark ceiling as he tried to settle himself, coiling the standard-issue, somewhat scratchy duvet tighter around his shoulders. He'd enjoyed a cautious evening getting to know the rest of Pack 8 and was still floating on a cloud of satisfied but nervy anticipation. A lot of ego patting had gone on - _they_ were the chosen ones - the elite few. It felt good to be around soldiers of the same merit. Sure, it wasn’t the easiest thing to stomach; being assigned to an artificially constructed pack, but awkward introductions aside Jack still felt hopeful - this new group _might_ just work out. All the recruits were around the same age – early twenties, and most were betas, with two alphas both so quietly confident in their own skin that they hadn’t bothered to try and assert any dominance … At least, not yet.  

Blackburn, Lott, Oneill … and then the others … Jack ran through their names one by one, locking them into his memory.

From tomorrow, the enhancement program would begin – that much the men had already been told, but as exact details still remained scarce, rumours were already running rife.

“Can’t say I’m too hyped about the prospect of getting hooked up to some creepy machine …” Finch’s voice drifted across the small room. “Letting some weirdo in a white coat poke us with needles and god knows what else …”

Jack couldn’t help but smirk. “I heard one of the boys saying we’re gonna look like porcupines after they’re done!”

_“Fuck off!”_

Jack dissolved into laughter, echoed by his roommate. Both men were still wound up too tightly – legs restless, tingly with energy and expectation. Sleep was definitely off the cards, at least for a little while.

“It’d better be worth it.” Finch grumbled. “You must’ve noticed too, right? Somethin’s different about all those officers; the ones who’re already on the other side. Can’t figure it out, but … s’hella different to a normal solider.”  

“Yeah …” Jack’s mind flittered to the memory of Reyes, all muscly brawn, radiating that weirdly tangible energy. “I noticed.”

“Heard a lot of rumours about what it’s gonna do to us; super-human strength, crazy-strong endurance-! We’ll never get sick, never get tired-!” Finch’s voice rose with his excitement, boyish and eager. “We’re gonna get remade into real life superheroes, blondie! You won’t need those comics anymore! It’s gonna feel like we’re _reborn!”_

“‘Reborn,’ huh …” Almost as soon as he heard that word Jack’s mind slipped off on a tangent. Reborn sounded good to him. Remade sounded even better. Anything that helped him strengthen the disguise … He’d embrace it.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Finch chuckled.

“H-Huh?! Sorry, I zoned out …”

“You did that to Reyes, too.”

A curl of embarrassment ran down Jack’s spine as he involuntarily recalled the alpha’s dark scowl. “Bad habit,” he mumbled. “Don’t mean anything by it …”

“A typical airheaded blonde!” Finch giggled.

 _“You’re_ the one making fun of hair colours?!”

“You know what _really_ gets me about this program?!” the red-haired man changed the topic with unabashed unsubtly. “No women! Not a single one!”

Jack faltered. It wasn’t something he’d given any particular thought, but now that Finch mentioned it, he noticed the fact for the very first time. “Oh …” Jack made what he thought was the appropriate, disappointed sound.

“You think they’d have at least one pack’s worth, right? Don’t get why they wouldn’t want to test at least _some_ of ‘em out here too …”

“Maybe the enhancements only work on men.” Jack considered it. “Hormones ‘n shit.”

“It sucks!” Finch let out a long, dramatic sigh. “God knows how long we’re gonna be cooped up in here without a single girl in sight! At least give us a little variety, y’know?!”

“I’m sure some of the scientists will be women …”

“Great,” Finch snorted, “with their big scary needles … I’ll pass!”

“Not one for the nurse fantasy?”

“Nah …” Finch chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to content myself with the thought that after we’re done here, whenever we _finally_ get some leave … everyone’s gonna flock to us in a frenzy. Just think about it!”

Jack cagily noted the way his roommate’s voice turned wistful and waited.

“All the pretty betas … Shit, might even stand a chance with a few _omegas_ for once! I’d kill to land an omega …”

It was instantaneous; the hot flash of bitter irritation that worked its way down into the pit of Jack’s stomach. Sour and tense, he gritted his teeth, but years of practise allowed him to keep his voice light. “Every man’s dream, huh?”

“Yeah!” Finch was too wrapped up in his own fantasy to notice anything amiss. “What man _doesn’t_ want an omega for a mate?!”

“Mm.” Jack rolled over until he faced the wall. “Shame they’re so rare nowadays. Not enough to go around.”

Omega birth-rates had been steadily declining for decades. Some people blamed the food – maybe too many artificial chemicals had altered human physiology itself. Who knew. Jack had certainly never bothered to think about it too much; he reviled having to contemplate anything to do with what he was, especially when it only served to remind him exactly how much more of a prize – a toy – a _commodity_ his biology had made him become.

If he’d remained leading a civilian life, Jack knew without a doubt that he would have had men fighting tooth-and-claw to win his favour by now. He could have had a whole roster of lovers – the pick of the crop – and that sickened him. None would care for who ‘Jack’ was. It would simply be all, ‘Oh, look at me and my perfect little omega boyfriend – isn’t he cute?! Aren’t you all jealous?! You know how _rare_ they are these days!’

A lot of men, and perhaps even some women, would gladly pretend to like Jack purely because they wanted to see what fucking a male omega was like – to get that notch on their bedpost – the bragging rights. Jack felt slightly hollow inside when he thought about it – the way he’d heard people talk about omegas so many times before. It made him feel achy. Lonely. Like there was a hole in his chest.

“You ever met one?”

Great. Irritation prickled through him again – this beta evidently had a one-track mind. Then again, where omegas were concerned, what young man didn’t.

Easy now …

Jack paused.

Part of him knew he shouldn’t say it – shouldn’t plant even the tiniest seed in anyone’s mind, but still, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Yeah, I met one once-”

“-Shit! You serious?! I’ve never eve-”

“-but it was a guy.”

Jack counted three heartbeats of pause. Maybe this time would be the moment he proved all his bitterness wrong …

“A _guy?!”_ Finch let out a low whistle. “For real? I didn’t think – they actually _exist?!”_ He laughed. “Omegas are rare as hell, but a _male_ one – wow, dude, that’s like seeing a unicorn!”

“So they say …” Jack’s amusement was leaden; Finch was too busy chattering to notice.

“I dunno how I’d feel if I turned out like that –a man, but having to go through all that omega shit; the heats ‘n stuff …Omegas aren’t _meant_ to be male! ‘Least, that’s what I was always taught. I hear they get all slicked up like a girl, too … Ugh …” A shudder was audible in the redhead’s voice. “Poor guy …”

Jack made a noncommittal noise. Typical! His nails bit into his palms. All of them were exactly the same; betas, alphas … It made no difference. All of them saw omegas as nothing more than docile little fucktoys – a high prize to be won, but on their own – as individuals – so weak, so incapable, so … so _pitiful_ …

“But then again,” Finch’s smirk was evident in his tone, “when it comes down to it, an omega is still an omega, so-”

“-Do you _ever_ stop talking?!” Jack’s pretence slipped; his voice cut through the air, icily sharp.

A cold silence fell.

Finch sucked in a huffy breath. “Alright, buddy … don’t get your panties in knot! Just _tell_ me if you wanna sleep …”

“Sorry …” Instantly, Jack regretted it. He shouldn’t have snapped. Finch wasn’t saying anything Jack hadn’t already heard a thousand times before. He didn’t even particularly blame his roommate for having such thoughts. Jack was more angered by his own volatile emotions. Idiot! He seethed at himself. Snap out of it! You’re gonna fuck up if you don’t stop this. Just … calm down. You expected him to say that; it’s nothing new. No need to get all tetchy about it …

Silence fell, but it was uncomfortable; a lingering tension that made it painfully obvious both of them were still wide awake.

Racking his brains for something else to say, Jack ended up blurting out – “What do you think of Reyes?”

“… Reyes?” Finch still sounded faintly put out, but the lure of continued chatter soon won him over. “Dunno, really. Seems like a decent guy …”

“He wasn’t at dinner with us …”

“Apparently all the officers get their own swanky dining hall.”

Jack wasn’t sure what to add.

“All I know is,” Finch soon picked up the thread, “he’s the top alpha of this entire base – top out of all the commanding officers … the _Big Bad Boss_ of everything! Out of every recruit in this program, they say his enhancements were the most successful … Whatever the hell _that_ means. He was the most dedicated, the most driven, the one we're all supposed to aspire to ...”

“No shit …” For some reason, Jack felt the muscles in his stomach pull taunt. On some level, he’d already known that, but hearing it said out loud … It stirred things within him. Instincts he hadn’t felt for a long time. Alpha – _the_ Alpha …

Memories of Reyes’ face flashed across Jack’s mind – the sharp angle of his jaw, the strong line of his nose, those dark brown eyes; the look in them – mocking, curious …

Jack wasn’t entirely sure what his preferred ‘type’ was, or even if he had one at all, but at least _visually_ his new officer definitely ticked more than a few boxes. Not to mention that muscle-thick body, the likes of which Jack had never seen before. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to put his hands on someone so ripped, to feel all that strength first hand – purely from a comparative viewpoint, of course. After two years in basic, Jack himself was by no means small or skinny, but if he hoped to one day reach that level of mouth-watering perfection …

Stop it!

Chiding himself, Jack rolled onto his stomach. Nature, that’s all it was. He banished those curious thoughts firmly from his mind. Goddamn unnecessary instincts and raging hormones messing with his head, like usual!

“We’re actually pretty lucky!” Finch was still rambling on. “I’m surprised a guy like him has time to babysit new recruits like us! I would’ve expected _all_ those guys to be busy with some top-secret super-solider mission …”

“I guess since the world’s been peaceful for so long now, there’s not a lot for them to do …”

“Maybe …”

“Finch …?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna sleep now.” Jack pushed his face into the pillow, closing his eyes. He had enough to think about for now – and a lot of things he didn’t want to think about, too.

“Alright … take it easy Goldilocks. We’re up at five am tomorrow, remember.”

Jack groaned.  

 

 

***

 

 

“Excuse me, Officer …” Jack snapped smartly to attention.

Reyes’ dark eyes flicked onto him. “…What?”

“Why are all our afternoons clear?”

A visible shift of curious agreement ran through the rest of the assembled men; the schedule Reyes had explained to them seemed strange – training every morning, lunch break, and then 'enhancement' treatments in the first part of the afternoon, which according to Reyes, would take between one to two hours. It all sounded straightforward enough … except a considerable block of hours in the afternoons were still scheduled with nothing, and that definitely wasn’t the army way.

As usual, it had fallen on Jack to ask the question no one else dared – some were too intimidated, others too starstruck by their new commanding officer’s dominating presence. Jack was both of those things, but like always, he grasped his anxieties by the throat and throttled them.  

“Did you not _listen_ to me, Morrison?” Reyes sounded grumpy, like he didn’t want to be there at all.  “You will report to the laboratory in the afternoons …”

“I heard you sir, but then what about after our treatments are done?”

“You do whatever the fuck you want.”

Another microscopic shudder ran through the men; that guttural tone of voice felt sharp enough to slice bone.

“Shouldn’t we be continuing our training …? Or doing chores, or ...?" Instinct told Jack he should have kept his mouth shut; he could read body language right down to the most miniscule of movements – a defensive omega trait that for once, wasn’t something Jack loathed entirely. It certainly came in useful. Like now, for instance - Jack could intuitively tell Reyes was tense, avoiding eye contact unless it was to assert dominance, mouth tight and unsmiling … He was holding himself behind a hefty barricade of indifference. Jack knew that for whatever reason, this alpha had little interest in and no passion for leading his new pack. There was something else, too – Jack noticed the tiniest wince of the skin around Reyes’ eyes as he spoke of the lab – a micro-grimace. A look of sympathy, and pain.

It was gone the split-second the omega saw it, replaced swiftly by a sardonic leer. “By all means, Morrison, if you’re feeling _up to it,_ you can put in as much extra training as you like.”

“… Thank you, sir.” Jack lowered his gaze. Reyes’ sarcasm masked a sharp wit he wasn’t stupid enough to provoke. It didn’t take the extra perceptiveness of an omega to deduce that – they’d all spotted it.

“As it happens, the treatments will run on a one-week-on, one-week-off basis so your bodies have time to acclimatize. During the 'off weeks,' training and duties will commence _all_ day, as per the system you will be more familiar with. None of this is open for further discussion.” Reyes folded his arms across his broad chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

_"Yessir!”_

“Good. Now we’re gonna take some benchmark stats before your first treatment later on today, so get your scrawny asses out on that course and let me see what you can do!”

It was a standard military assault course … vamped up by about ten levels. Jack went into it with his usual level of sheer determination and willpower, but even he wasn’t going to fool himself too much – this training was going to be insanely tough. Muscles screaming, lungs gasping, head reeling levels of tough.

Better get on with it.

Somehow, perhaps through pure fortitude alone, Jack managed to finish – by a hair's breadth – faster than the alpha Oneill – who had silently been everyone’s bet to win. Adrenaline surged through Jack’s body when he realized it. He’d set the precedent he expected; he was going to stand at the top of this pack too!

Dishevelled, muddy, and soaked with both water and sweat, the men gathered back at the start, each trying not to display too much tiredness - not that bravado mattered; all of them had been fitted with some kind of monitoring wristband. Jack wasn't entirely sure of it's purpose, but it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out it was recording heart rate, timings, maybe even breathing patterns ...

“Nice show, pretty boy!” Oneill smacked him on the back. His grin was false; Jack knew this because it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Guess the rumours about you are true, huh?” Nearby, Finch wiped sweat out of his eyes. “You’re really somethin’ else …”

“Just doing what I can …” Feeling intensely smug, Jack made a show of shrugging lightly. He looked over his shoulder, searching for Reyes, and found him standing further off with two men in a uniform that seemed to suggest they were from the research department; regardless, they looked almost comically ordinary standing beside the alpha. Reyes' arms remained crossed as he frowned faintly at these newcomers - they ignored him, busily tapping away on a multi-holoscreen floating in a fan of lights around their torsos. 

Jack steadied his breath as Reyes looked up – their eyes met. Jack couldn’t help but cock his head with a little smile. He waited, expecting some kind of praise, but the officer simply looked him over, mouth set in that familiar, darkly amused smirk as he said, “Again.”

Again, and then again; Reyes had them run the course four times in a row.

Jack claimed three of the best times; Lott – the other alpha – came out of nowhere to steal the fourth. Jack tried not to let it bother him. Whatever. He was still top. One loss didn’t counter three wins, and everyone knew it.

Beside Reyes, the two men watched their every move, fingers hardly pausing as they danced across the screens. Jack tried to get a sidelong glance at whatever it was they were monitoring, but the holoscreens had some kind of privacy filter on so all he could discern was a flickering blur of light. Irritated by this, Jack meant to ask who they were, but something about the sharp way Reyes looked at him if he even so much as opened his mouth made Jack snap it shut again each time.

At the end of the fourth round, when they all stumbled back to the gravel path by entrance to the course, the two men had already gone. Jack’s legs were so exhausted they were starting to feel numb, but he tried to keep his back straight.

“You have one hour to wash up and eat. Go. Get out of my sight.” Reyes dismissed them without further comment. Jack lingered, making sure he was the only one walking behind the officer as they all trudged back up to the main building. He glowered silently at Reyes' back. Jack couldn’t help it – this alpha was pissing him off. _Was that it?!_ No words of encouragement - or praise - for his excellent achievements today? Jack was used to officers slapping him on the back, proudly telling the other men what a prime example he was – the approval and acclaim was what gave him the strength to get through sessions like this.

_He needed it!_

Jack peeled his tank top off his stomach and used it, sweaty though it was, to wipe a few streaks of mud off his face. His deliberate hesitance drew some attention, but it wasn’t from Reyes, as he’d intended.

“Getting tired already, Jackie-boy?” Finch doubled back to sling an arm around his shoulders, knocking Jack forward a couple of steps.

“You wish!” Jack shoved the redhead back.

“Ha! You look like you’re about to pass out! I could probably drop you in one hit!”

Jack knew what this was; Reyes was still walking less than two metres in front of them. Finch was sparring for attention … not from him, but from the alpha. He was trying to impress the man -  Jack could see it in the way Finch's eyes flicked to glance in front of them. It was kind of expected that they’d end up vying for their pack leader’s notice, but still …

As if he’s gonna be impressed by shit-talking, Jack wanted to sneer, when he didn’t even care enough to say a word to _me!_

“You wanna go, huh?” Jack’s ego still took the bait, despite his fatigue. He grappled Finch into a playful headlock, half wrestling him down onto the path. Finch fought back – but both of them were beat, and their brawling was pretty shabby. Still, their laughter attracted the attention of the rest of the pack, and a couple of the others turned back. Oneill let out an encouraging whoop.

_“What the fuck are you two doing?”_

Reyes was on them both in a second; Jack felt himself ripped from Finch, both of them dragged back by the scruff of their necks. Shock made them hold still as Reyes towered over them both, his teeth barred. “You think this is a joke?”

Jack immediately parted his lips to protest – why the hell was Reyes only looking at him as he growled?

“You think you’re at kindergarten? You think we’re on recess right now?”

“N-No, sir!” Swallowing tightly, because Reyes had his tank top pulled painfully taunt around the base of his neck, Jack quickly shook his head.

“You little shits don’t take this seriously, you’d better go home to your mamas right now-!”

“We're sorry, sir!” Finch screwed his face up.

Reyes released them both.

 _“Pinche idiota,”_ he hissed softly through his teeth. Jack noted it was still mostly aimed at him. Annoyance bubbled up again. His stubborn pride wasn’t going to tolerate it – not the overreaction, nor the unwarranted bias. What the hell was _wrong_ with this guy?!

Ninety nine percent of the time, Jack was glad he’d stamped out most of his omega-ish traits, but there was one particular edge he’d found he could still retain beneath his cover, and it had saved him many times in the past – the omega’s secret weapon – pure charm. Betas could mimic it with varying degrees of success, and that was the only reason Jack hadn’t cast it aside. Especially when an alpha was involved - they were so weak to it, so susceptible … So _easy_ to manipulate …

Jack put on his brightest, cheekiest ‘Golden Boy’ smile – all white teeth and sparkly eyes – and tilted his head. It left his neck fractionally exposed; the faintest hint of submission, the thing that all alphas were instinctively placated by. “Don’t mean anything by it, sir. Just gotta lot of energy to burn off.”

It definitely had an effect on Reyes, because Jack saw his jaw clench. “You still got energy, you can do one more round-”

“-We’re only trying to bond, sir.” Jack cut him off with another winning smile – risky – but he felt assured it would work out. “Y'know - this whole pack situation …”

Reyes didn’t move. He folded one arm across his chest and put the other up to his face, stroking his thumb down the side of his beard. Jack felt a flush of complacency; the man was clearly torn. Reyes wanted to assert dominance, but it was so hard to when docility was already being offered …

If they’d been alone, Jack might have even laughed. _Now_ who was in control? Alphas were aggressive, assertive, so powerfully commanding … but roll on your back and flash them a smile, and they fell for it every time. Jack’s own smile melded ever so slightly into a smirk. Maybe the old stereotype that alphas were all brawn and no brain rang true in this case.

“You think this is funny?”

Jack faltered as Reyes reached out again. Calloused fingers slid through his hair – darkened by dirt and sweat – dragging him forward until he was inches from Reyes face. Jack was so close he could feel the alpha's breath against the sensitive shell of his ear – could _scent_ him, and god … now was really not the time, but Reyes smelt mouth-wateringly good – musky, _virile_ … He practically oozed pheromones. Jack felt his eyes glaze over, mind locking down onto that scent, onto the close proximity of the older man. _Alpha. Good. Get it._

No! Jack flinched. Shit – this … this was _not_ supposed to happen! Nothing like this had ever happened before-!

“Is this how the infamous ‘Golden Boy’ earnt his title?” Reyes growled against his ear, threat dripping from every syllable. “Is this how you expect to get through the program? You think you can just smile – pout - bat your pretty little lashes at me?”

_“N-No, I-”_

“You think I’m gonna fall for that _shit?!”_

 _“S-Sir-!”_ Humiliation flooded through him, but Jack daren’t move. All the others were watching. Finch looked aghast, but Lott was smirking. Oneill grinned outright. 

“I wasn’t trying to make you angry; I’m sorry …” Jack didn’t know what to do with himself. He winced as he felt the hand grasping his scalp fractionally tighten – and then release. Reyes stood back. “You’d better watch yourself boy!” His voice came out rough, and Jack wanted to scream at the illogical way that made his loins tense, “because for some reason, even _looking_ at you pisses me off.” 

Jack’s let his lips part in shock as he sucked in a few angry breaths – he hadn’t been this deeply affronted, fearful or confused in a very long time. Reyes looked him over once more; that slow trail of his dark eyes, up and down the entire length of Jack’s body. Judging. Mocking. _Suspicious._

For a split second, the two men faced off against each other; Jack's searing blue gaze burning with silent outrage.

Reyes huffed out a soft, derisive sound and turned away.

“… You alright?”

Finch cautiously approached as the alpha strode off up the path.

Jack couldn’t stop glowering at the officer's back. He set his jaw resolutely. “I’m fine …”

He started to walk, not looking at Finch, not looking at the leering faces of any of the others. Heat burned in his cheeks. Jack knew they probably _looked_ like they were burning too – he had an uncontrollable propensity to flush red, from his ears right down to his chest, whenever his emotions got the better of him.

Reyes had done the most insulting thing it was possible to do -  he’d humiliated Jack, denounced his very existence in the program right in front of the rest of their pack, and with that, automatically cast Jack down to the bottom of the hierarchy.

Jack had never felt so shaken up. Even on the day he’d first signed up to begin life as a soldier - a living lie - he felt sure he’d never felt so out of his depth as this.

Being bottom of the pack – even as a beta, left him very vulnerable.

Jack couldn’t risk being vulnerable.

He needed to fix this situation, and fast.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how Jack's gonna cope knowing that for once, there's someone he can't easily wrap round his little finger?!
> 
> (P.S I hope people don't mind the inclusion of OCs but ... I really don't see how I can write a well developed story and not include any considering Blizzard has given us exactly nothing to work with at the present time. ^^;;)
> 
> Please let me know what you think! (Also, I don't have a beta reader or anything, so I apologize if any errors slipped past my check ..)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, I am here with another chapter!! Everyone has been so amazingly kind and wonderful and I'm trying really hard to reply to every comment personally because it means SO much to me that people enjoy my writing, honestly ... I feel like it's the only thing I can do successfully in life right now so thank you so much for all the kudos and the support and omg why are you all so nice aaaaah >///< I wrote a lot because my motivation was so high!!
> 
> Note: this chapter contains some description of weird medical experimentation + Jack n the boys … not feeling so great. I wouldn’t say that it goes into hugely graphic detail but at the same time it’s not my style to gloss over things when I write so … apologies in advance if that upsets anyone.

 

Jack wretched, and wretched, and then wretched again until his stomach was empty. With a shattered sigh he sank down onto the hard, cold flooring, curling up into a foetal position. His vision was blurry; head spinning too much to focus.

Finch was slumped somewhere on the tiles on the other side of the toilet.

Enhancements had begun.

Jack had been so eager for it - even more so because he knew it would distract the pack entirely from the humiliation they'd witnessed him suffer earlier that morning. After showering - Jack in guarded silence - and then dining - Jack again, warily on guard - they'd all reported to the entrance of the laboratory building. All the other packs also awaited their turns. Everyone had been nervous, but the _elated_ anticipation filling the air had been almost palpable.

Doctors – or at least, folk who looked like doctors, with their white coats and distant professionalism – had ushered them into a smallish room bedecked with ten leather chairs. It reminded Jack of a dentist’s setup – clinical and faintly foreboding, but certainly nothing like the horror-stories that had been flying around before. He’d sat and waited, drumming his fingers against the armrest anxiously while various sensors were pressed onto his chest and neck. A clip hooked onto his fingertip, and a pulse oximeter holoscreen flickered into life beside him.

Jack hadn’t felt particularly concerned by any of this, although there was something to be said for the way doctors – scientists – whatever-the-hell-they-were worked in almost eerie silence. Cannulas were inserted into the backs of their hands. Jack shot Finch a knowing grin then, and received a tight smile in reply. He had convenient skin, the doctor prepping him abruptly remarked; the paleness made his veins show up nice and stark.  

Soon, the cannulas were hooked up to IV bags filled with a faintly viscous liquid. It could have been anything. In a weird way, it’s plainness was almost … underwhelming. Jack didn’t know what he’d expected, but a clear IV bag filled with what looked like slightly gloopy water wasn’t it. Not that there was any point in asking what it was. Jack had already known he wouldn’t receive a reply.

Some parts of SEP were so secret, not even the participants could be informed.

At first, nothing happened. Jack’s sense of underwhelmed curiosity continued; the bags might as well have been a vitamin infusion for all it appeared to be doing to to them. Left to sit and chat, the pack began to relax; they could even pull up a holoscreen TV while they waited for the treatment to slowly drip through. Some of the men were happy for a chance to catch up with the sports channels. Jack found a movie he’d been meaning to watch, and he and Finch started playing it on their respective screens at the same time. It was almost ... calm. It was nice to _sit down_ after the morning’s gruelling training. Scientists continued to flit around them like soft, silent ghosts, periodically checking the infusion bags, the cannulas, and their vitals.

Twenty minutes in, and everything changed. Jack’s legs started quaking. He’d found himself shivering, icy cold, even though the room itself felt stiflingly hot. A quick glance confirmed Finch was experiencing exactly the same, and Jack opened his mouth to comment on it. His view of the other man was abruptly blocked off by a white coat.

“Please, refrain from excessive communication from here on.”

Accordingly, silence was firmly enforced.

Jack tried to watch the rest of the movie. His body couldn’t stop shivering. When another doctor paused to hover behind his chair, he tilted his head up to ask, “Is this supposed to happen? Am I okay?!”

“You’re fine,” came the curt reply. “Your reaction is normal.”

Uneasily, the pack swapped worried glances, but Jack forced himself to ignore it.

After the cold came the heat.

Jack started sweating, clammy; he could feel his shirt sticking to the leather at his back. He tried to lift a hand to wipe his brow and knocked the cannula out of place. A machine beeped, and almost instantly a doctor swooped down on him with an irritable reprimand.

“Doc, I’m burning up …” Jack knew he wasn’t supposed to talk, but he couldn’t keep quiet. It didn’t feel right. His skin was crawling, limbs achy and shivering. Even his breath was all shivery – Jack was convinced his heart was beating out of sync.

“You’re _fine,_ 76\. Stop whining.”

76 …?

It took Jack a few woozy seconds to work out that the scientists didn’t even appear to know them by name. Jack’s mind was going all fuzzy. He could barely concentrate on the end of the film.

What happened after that was – in some ways – thankfully nothing but a dizzy blur. Jack remembered only fragments; watching the IV bag as it dripped with excruciating slowness, looking over at Finch only to see the other man’s eyes were all glassy; he sat completely still, knuckles white as his hands clenched around the armrests, face pallid in a way Jack knew mirrored his own. None of their other packmates looked too good either. Jack shuddered violently. It hurt. His bones hurt. Whatever this drug was, it felt like it was seeping into every sinew, every tendon, every arch and twist of his ribs and his spine. Jack felt sure it was acid; eating him up from the inside out. He felt like his organs were dissolving – It hurt – _It hurt-!_

Someone cried out. Maybe it was Jack. Maybe it was one of the others – they were all too drugged up to tell.

Slowly, the hands of the clock set high up on the wall rolled around to complete another hour. Jack drifted in an out of consciousness. Reality kept altering; his memories were all muddled up. For one moment Jack almost thought he was back home, because he could have sworn he could hear the sounds of his sisters running through the fields, the swish of the crops and the bark of the family dog as the bright summer sun shone down on them from overhead. His mother was playing the piano, and Jack flinched the sound of his father’s booming laugh-! But then it all changed again, and he was back at basic, facing his old squad – waving goodbye. His new packmates were there too – laughing at him, _jeering_ at him. He saw Reyes – and then Jack felt pinned, petrified as the alpha licked his lips, eyes heavy-lidded as he stepped forward and ran his hand down the front of Jack’s throat, his chest, his stomach, digging in his nails, the touch leaving stinging trails in their wake-!

_“76-!”_

Jack stirred.

“76!”

Jack’s eyes snapped open – chest heaving, gasping for air – Where was he?! Where was _this-?!_

Reality returned in a flash. A doctor was removing the cannula from his hand, pressing a little ball of cotton wool over the tiny perforation. Another was busy scrolling through data on a holoscreen file; their fingers flittering over the fan of translucent screens hovering beside the chair. Jack could hear his packmates groaning all around him – he was groaning too. His eyes stung, head pounding, mouth bone dry. Even Jack’s hearing felt off – everything sounded muffled, as though he was submerged beneath water.

Jack worried he might be sick. His stomach did not feel good.

_“Congratulations, gentlemen! You have all made it through your very first treatment!”_

Someone took hold of Jack’s forearm and hoisted him bodily from the chair. Jack’s legs instantly buckled, but another figure immediately propped him up. Jack wanted to scream – his skin stung as though every nerve-end was raw wherever it was touched. His clothing burned! – _Everything_ was burning-!

“Return to your bunks for the remainder of the day.” A clear, female voice rang out through the room. Jack didn’t recognize it – didn’t care. “You may find that your skin is sensitive for several hours – please, try not to claw at it. Side effects such as dizziness, nausea, vomiting, headaches and disturbed sensory input are both normal and to be expected. It will fade within six to seven hours. Rehydration beverages have been supplied to your rooms – make sure you use them. You will all report back here tomorrow at the same time, _no exceptions_.”

 “Painkillers-!” Jack gasped out. “Something! Anything! Can’t you-”

“-You are expressively forbidden to take _any_ unauthorized medications –  it may disrupt the process.”

Jack had no stamina left to argue.

He stumbled into someone; it was Finch.

“Jack …” Finch whined, clutching onto him; they slung their arms around each other and staggered out into the hallway. _“Jack, I’m dying …”_

“C’mon …” Jack wasn’t sure where he was going; he let his feet carry him one halting step at a time.

Somehow, they made it back into their room.

Somehow, they made it into the bathroom.

Unfortunately, both of them had to wretch into the toilet at the same time.

Well … that was certainly one way of bonding.

Several hours had passed since then. Neither moved from the floor; there was no point, stomachs so empty that there wasn’t even any need to sit up even if they had to heave. Jack had no strength to lift his head. He moaned something that sounded vaguely like Finch’s name, and got an equally incoherent groan in reply. Well, at least his roommate was still alive – that was good.

Some more time passed. Jack had no idea how long. He’d stopped vomiting, and the searing pain in his head and his bones had finally subsided into a steady, throbbing ache. At least the cold tiles of the bathroom floor felt nice and soothing against his feverish skin, because Jack certainly wasn’t ready to move. He lay with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of his own breathing, occasionally making sure he could still hear Finch’s shallow wheezes too.

 _Now_ that tiny micro-expression of pity on Reyes face made perfect sense; this was torture, pure and undiluted. Jack had been through his fair share of childhood ailments and illnesses – had even been admitted to hospital with a particularly nasty bout of food poisoning once, but nothing – absolutely _nothing_ came close to the agony of this.

A door opened – the clang made Jack’s ears ring.

A dark shadow loomed over him. He heard a brusque, familiar growl.

_“Get up.”_

Reyes was suddenly hauling them up onto their feet – Jack under one arm, Finch under the other. Jack thought he was going to heave again as the world whirled around them, but then he was crashing down onto his bed. Finch yelped – Reyes had obviously dropped him equally unceremoniously.

Grumbling bitterly to himself, the alpha stomped around the room. Jack gingerly pushed himself up into a slouch, his back pressed against the wall the bed was set against. He heard the click of a bottle top being opened. His head was forced up.

“Drink.”

Jack tried to focus his gaze.

“Drink, shithead, or I will force it down you.”

Jack grasped the bottle and brought it to his lips; he took a gulp – the liquid was weird, faintly metallic. Jack took a few more gulps, and his vision focused enough to see that Reyes was now bullying Finch into doing the same. He watched silently.

Reyes turned back to him; their gaze met. No words were exchanged.

Behind them, Finch immediately burrowed under the covers of his bed, wrapping himself up so tightly that no portion of his body could be seen.

Jack knew he probably looked like absolute shit – the way Reyes surveyed him said it all. Sympathy. Resignation. Understanding. A certain degree of helplessness … It was all clear in the alpha’s gaze. Reyes reached out and took the half-drunk bottle from Jack’s limp grasp.

“Get some sleep.”

 _“I can’t do this …”_ Jack’s own voice sounded unfamiliar to himself; raspy, raw from bile.

Reyes set the bottle down on the table and looked away. “… It will pass quicker than you think.”

 _“I can’t-!_ It’s … I’ll _die;_ this is a nightmare; this _can’t_ be legal-!”

A dark, bitter smile tugged at the officer’s mouth. “Morrison … it’s what you _chose_ to do.”

Jack couldn’t answer that. His lips parted, but nothing came out. After all, Reyes was right.

“How long does this last …?”

“It depends on the individual. What your body can take, mental stamina …”

“How long was it for you?”

“Initially, around six months.”

Jack’s mouth fell open – he couldn’t fathom the thought of enduring this for another week, let alone a month … or _six_ months …

“After that time, if they assess your enhancement was successful, you will be promoted to the official SEP unit – the training remains the same, but there will be …” Reyes pressed his lips together, “no more treatments. At least, not like this.”

 _“If_ I last that long …” Jack screwed up his eyes. If they hadn’t felt so dry, he might have had tears in them – tears of sheer horror and exhaustion.

Reyes reached out. Jack flinched away on instinct, but the hand that rubbed through his hair was unexpectedly comforting. “The first week is always the roughest.” Even Reyes’ voice softened surprisingly; the gruffness mellowing out into a husky tone that felt like a blanket running over Jack’s frayed nerves. “Strength comes quickly.”

“Mm …” Clearly still out of it, Jack reached up, catching the alpha’s arm by the cuff as he felt that big, warm hand begin to pull back.

“I’m not your mama, farm-boy; I don’t have time to sit with you.”

 _“Please …”_ Jack held on for a fraction of a second longer. Reyes flicked him on the nose. “Hey-!” Jack recoiled, and then let out a breathy, pained laugh that Reyes almost echoed – there was a weird look in his eyes again; a deep understanding of exactly how Jack felt right now. A look which hinted that if perhaps he’d had the time – if there wasn’t eight other men who needed hauling back into their beds too, he might have stayed. At least for a little while.

“Get some rest – the more you sleep it off, the better you’ll cope tomorrow; trust me.”

 _Wait-!_ Mentally, Jack called out for Reyes to stay – but even in such a befuddled state, his mind wasn’t desperate enough to embarrass himself like that, so he bit down on his tongue as the alpha slipped from his wobbly vision.  

Silence fell after the door slammed shut.

Jack flopped sideways, and somehow dug himself under the duvet. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. If he was being honest, Jack didn’t think he’d ever be able to do anything ever again, but the moment his cheek settled against the pillow he was gone, out like a light, completely lost from the world. He dreamt once more of chasing after his sisters in the corn fields, ten years old again, in that blessed and peaceful time before puberty had outed him as a freak of nature and completely fucked up his life.

Tomorrow, the nightmare would start over again.

 

 

***

 

 

Reyes was a liar; Jack felt like his strength wasn’t building up at all.

Every treatment was as hellish as the last. Hollow eyed and humourless, the pack continued their training in the mornings. Reyes continued to hold himself at arm’s length. He barely looked any of them in the eye except when he was barking out orders.

It frustrated Jack, made him want to grab the alpha by the shirt and snarl at him for being such a cold-hearted bastard – the only good thing that had come out of sharing this communal hell was that the pack had somehow bonded tighter over it; although the banter was lacklustre and muted, they’d all taken to spending long periods of time slumped on the floor in each other’s rooms. Communally suffering - there was a weird sort of camaraderie about it. It pushed things like Jack’s humiliation into the background, at least for now. No one had the energy to shit-talk or throw their weight around when they all felt like they might drop dead at any moment. 

At the end of the first week, Jack tried to feel proud. He’d made it through! One week down!

Five months and three weeks to go. 

Jack’s spirits remained limp.

He didn’t feel any different, physically. No fabled superhero powers manifested within his shattered form. At least Jack started to acclimatize to the routine – the ‘rest’ week, and then the following treatment week … It all started to mesh into a blur. He remained filled with venomous irritation at Reyes, letting the alpha become a mental punchbag for all his disappointment and frustration. Jack was beyond pissed off, not least because sometimes, something would crack in the officer’s otherwise impenetrable veneer and an impression of warmth would slip through - a slight look in his eyes, a rough squeeze on the shoulder, an insult that contained a hidden degree of affection. Always just enough to make Jack think that he wasn’t such a bastard after all – only for Reyes to return to his usual, grumpy standoffish self the next day.

Goddammit, he _knew_ the man had a personality under there somewhere –!

“You can’t be telling me this is helping us, sir – I look like _death!”_

“I thought that was your usual skin tone, _cabrón_.”

“You-” Jack had caught the insult between his teeth seconds before it slipped out. Yeah, no … don’t call your pack leader a fucker – no matter how much those provoking dark eyes riled you up, it was never a smart move.

“What was that?” Reyes had actually grinned a little bit when he saw Jack’s sharp hesitance, and then laughed – a deep, rumbling chuckle – as the other man flushed and petulantly turned his face away.

“Nothing …”

Somewhere along the line, the ‘sir’ had started dropping off the end of his words. Reyes didn’t seem to mind – the others were doing it too.

A month passed. Turbulence began. It didn’t impact Jack directly, but it damaged the pack as a whole. One man ended up being carried screaming from the lab. He did not return. A few days later, another two vanished overnight. Mid-treatment a fourth stood up, ripped the cannula from his hands and had a complete meltdown, refusing to participate any further. He too, was hauled bodily from the room, and no one saw him again. Another told them all curtly during dinner one night that he was done – that he’d had enough, and they’d all watched in weary silence as he got up and walked out of their lives.

Jack would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it too – the thought ran through his mind on an almost constant loop while he was trapped in that leather chair. Was this really worth it? Was this _really_ something he could do? Reyes didn’t seem to care that the pack was now down to five – Morrison, Finch, Lott, Oneill, and Blackburn. “You were warned not every man is strong enough to handle it,” he’d merely shrugged, when they’d first questioned him as to where the others had gone. “Worry about yourselves; there’s no room for pitying the weak.”

Halfway through the second month, Jack started to notice something different about himself. His brain didn’t completely shut down during treatments. It still burned – ‘ _growing pains_ ,’ the doctors called it – but not even half as bad as it used to. Jack actually managed to get through an infusion _and_ retain the contents of his stomach later on. Finch was the same.

Soon, Jack found that he didn’t get so tired anymore, even after a solid day’s work. His lungs felt stronger; his endurance was steadily increasing. Day by day, the entire packs’ stats were going up. Jack still managed to maintain a slight edge over the others – it came easier to him now, and with these new levels of energy, his drive started to return – but it wasn’t until one morning, after a particularly tough challenge when Reyes had cuffed him across the back of the head and said brusquely, “ _Not bad,”_ that Jack really felt like things were starting to look up. His confidence resurfaced, and he even got a twinge of playful satisfaction from pointing out to the officer that no, ‘corpse-like’ was _not_ his usual skin tone, because look – his cheeks had finally recovered their healthy hue. In fact, Jack was practically _glowing!_

For one moment, Reyes had looked like he was so tempted to say something back– a wicked glint came into the alpha’s eyes … but he didn’t. He just shook his head with a condescending smirk and walked off, leaving Jack dissatisfied – grumpy at himself for getting so irritated over such a little thing. It was his damn omeganess again, getting him all crabby because attention wasn’t being dished out on a platter. It was almost like Reyes _knew_ that was what Jack was after, and so for some perverse reason, the alpha got more kicks out of denying him than playing along. Now _that_ possibility unnerved Jack a little. It poked at his paranoia again.

After their daily treatments were complete, the men had all taken to going down to the recreation lounge. On the pretence of relaxing, it was a good opportunity to size up the other packs – all of which had notably shrunk in population – to observe the recruits playing pool and holo-tennis and video games as though this would somehow provide them with clues as to who was taking to the enhancements the best. Bitching about their now mild aches and pains and other, more bizarre symptoms had become something of a communal sport – they all laughed about it; mocking those who had been too weak to see the program through. Conversations like, ‘Has anyone else now got glow-in-the-dark pee? Yeah? Thank god, I thought it was only me!” became commonplace. 

Jack knew he should have felt a lot more pleased with himself than he actually did, but he couldn’t help it –petty things kept getting to him, dragging his spirits down again. Sometimes, when the other packs were around, Jack noticed how their officers would drop by to socialize with them – informally mingling when off duty, further cementing their bonds. Reyes never did, and Jack would never admit it even to himself, but he felt … more than a little rejected by that. He’d worked so hard! He’d pulled through all of this so well … They _all_ had! So would it really hurt the officer to loosen up a little and come chill out with them every once in a while? God only knew, the alpha sure looked like he could do with a laugh!

Jack spent a lot of time brooding about that in preoccupied silence, constructing imaginary scenarios which usually involved him telling Reyes _exactly_ what he thought of him. It was purely a stress relief thing – of course, Jack didn’t exactly have any plans to sabotage his own career … but the more Reyes continued to neglect them, the more Jack found his resentment harder to quell.

 

 

***

 

 

Close combat exercises weren’t exactly Jack’s favourite activity, so he wasn’t in the cheeriest of moods when Reyes herded them all into a hall – at the hearty hour of six am - with the announcement that it was time to ‘shake things up.’

Another pack was already milling around, warming up, apparently awaiting their arrival.

Jack’s heart immediately sank. 

Having to wrestle with a bunch of sweaty guys – getting their scent all over him – letting them paw and grapple and rub all over his body … It was an omega’s worst nightmare! Jack had to work hard not to shudder at the mere thought. It was unnerving enough being touched by people he was familiar with, so when Reyes announced that from now on they’d be taking part in training ‘tournaments’ as such – pack against pack – it took a lot of tensing and gritting of his teeth to conceal exactly how much Jack secretly wanted to curl up and die.  

Strange men, pumped on testosterone and god knows what else, all trying to pin him down?

Hell no! Jack almost felt like he’d rather skip out and head straight to the lab.

Predictably, pack against pack only heightened everyone’s sense of competitiveness, and the officers regularly had to step in and forcibly separate two sparring men – Jack saw plenty of bloodied noses, black eyes, scrapes, bruises and even a few bite marks that morning. He himself sustained a sharp blow across the back of the head – and his ears were still faintly ringing – but Jack knew now was not the time to start acting precious and take a break; this was volatile situation! Jack was so on edge, so passionately determined not to get thrown onto the floor, that he’d used all that vicious, fear-fuelled energy to make sure he completely _decimated_ any fool who thought they could hold him down. He wouldn’t – no matter how much his body told him to – he would _not_ lie down and take it! _No man_ would put him on the floor-!

Reyes watched him like a hawk, a slight scowl on his face.

Jack flexed his muscles and stretched his arms out, popping his shoulders with a satisfied sigh – he’d won all nine of the bouts they’d put him through today. _Of course._ He took a quick respite to gulp down some water and was so eager to get back into the ring that he almost tripped over his own feet as he turned again. Between him and the mega-tank Oneill, their pack was _easily_ wiping the floor, and everyone knew it. Even by Jack’s own ridiculously ambitious standards, his prowess had set an unprecedented success. Bottom of the pack? Ha! He was practically on top of them all again!

Now … One more – Jack felt sure he could make his wins a perfect set of ten. His limbs were buzzing, full of life. He still wasn't fully convinced by the serum those scientists were pumping into them, but something must have changed, because since when had training become this _effortless?!_

“Morrison … let’s try you against Ross,” the unfamiliar officer of the rival pack gestured towards a man Jack instantly disliked; he looked like a typical alpha – six foot two of pure muscle and conceit. Excellent! Jack tilted his chin up, puffing out his chest as a tiny smirk played across his lips. No fear! He was pure muscle too. It would be Jack’s first bout against an alpha today … and he could already feel a burst of smugness at the thought of knocking the other man down.

“No.”

Reyes instantly materialized at his side, darkly overpowering and surly.

“What?” Jack glanced at him, dumbfounded. 

“You have concussion.”

 _“… Excuse me?”_ Jack didn’t know what to make of that. He felt fine – he was raring to go! Granted, his head _had_ felt a little spacey ever since that last knock, but … who wouldn’t when they were so hyped up, so drunk on adrenaline-?

“Your balance is off. I’ve been watching.”

 _“…_ You messing with me?!” Denial made him lose it – the words slipped out – and Jack was so affronted that he hardly had any space left in his mind to care that he’d crossed a line. “I’m fine! My foot got stuck on the floor-!”

“-Listen to me, you little _fucker!”_ Reyes reached out to grab Jack by the scruff of his shirt, but he darted away, smacking the officer’s hand off. Jack was over it. He was so done with this stupid, dumb alpha-!

“What are you, my _dad?_ ” Jack took advantage of Reyes’ momentary surprise - his expression was one of pure shock - and backed out of reach. “You watched me puke my guts out for over a month and hardly said a word, but one blow across the head and _now_ you’re going all ‘over-protective-alpha-boss’ on me? Forget it!” He curled his lip. “You’re too fucking late!”

Jack could dimly see Finch and Lott and Blackburn from the corner of his eye; all of them had varying degrees of ‘Oh-my-God-Jack- _no’_ etched across their faces. Lott drew a cross over his chest.

“If you don’t come here, Morrison, I will knock you out _myself-!”_ Reyes spoke through barred teeth, rage now rolling off him so thickly that it was almost a visible black cloud.

“I'm fine! You're not in my head-! You don't know-!” Jack was so, so tempted to throw a rude sign. He stepped into the ring and gestured violently towards his assigned partner – “Ross, get in here!”

Ross didn’t speak, but he grinned manically and stepped up.

“Let them fight; the Disney Prince looks like he needs to learn a lesson!” The other officer – along with the rest of the rival pack – looked delighted by this disgraceful scene. “You’ve not been training your boys properly Reyes – I would’ve beaten that attitude out of him a long time ago.”

Reyes didn’t answer that. Confliction twisted his face. He gave Jack one long, hard look … and then relented, almost spitting the words out. “Do what you want.”

“Do I have your permission?” Jack’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Over a months’ worth of personal, pent-up vendetta was egging him on.

“Permission granted, because you’d better hope you get knocked out _now_ rather than by _me_ when I deal with you later-!”

Jack would be lying if the way Reyes smiled as he said that didn’t make his blood run cold. His mind shrieked at him to apologize – to reconcile – to drop the aggressive stance and bare his throat as an apology. Maintaining such open defiance almost physically hurt-! Perhaps he _was_ concussed, because for half a second the thought of sidling up to the alpha and nuzzling against him and whimpering and begging for forgiveness flashed across Jack’s mind.

How pathetic.

He turned his back.

Ross grinned so wide Jack could see every tooth.

Wrestling in real life was never quite like it was in the movies – there were no long, drawn out scenes, no striking displays of aerobatic technique – this was brawling as it would be in the real world – quick, to the point, and thoroughly brutal. Most bouts didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Someone always tapped out.

Ross lumbered straight in for the attack. Jack expected it and countered equally fast; their bodies slammed into each other, twisting as each struggled to get a hold that would incapacitate. Jack managed to throw him off once; they circled before lunging forward again. Ross blocked an attempt at a grapple. Jack backed away, wiping sweat from his face. Both were panting slightly - Jack’s cheeks flushed bright pink with exertion.

“You’re getting tired already, blondie …” the alpha sneered. “Be a good boy and lie down for me, huh?”

Anger lanced through Jack at the taunt; teeth gritted, he sprang forward again. Ross blocked him – Jack’s legs were kicked out, and then they both went crashing down onto the mats. Jack’s head reeled. He slammed his elbow into the other man’s side and Ross lost his grip, so both of them scrambled again for a few moments, each trying to hold the other’s body in a position they couldn’t escape from. C’mon! Jack tried to focus his movements. _C’mon-!_

Something wasn’t right. His vision was turning white around the edges. Jack missed an easy block, and a meaty hand wrapped itself around his throat. He choked – but it was too late; a knee smashed into the centre of his abdomen. Completely winded, Jack struggled to breathe, thrashing and growling helplessly as the alpha above him used his full body weight to crush Jack down onto the ground. 

“Give up!” Ross’ breath was hot against the side of his face. His scent repulsed Jack – it made him want to wretch. “Give up, _pretty boy …”_

 _“Fuck … off …”_ Rage blinded Jack’s senses; the bastard’s singsong tone was taunting him! He could dimly hear the others calling encouragement – picked out Finch’s voice -  and struggled again.

“We can lie here all day,” Ross hissed, “if that’s the game you wanna play.”

Jack arched his back, gaining enough leverage to slide his knees beneath himself. Ross actually relented – but a second too late Jack realized why – now the alpha had him trapped on all fours, his arms pulled back, legs splayed. A heavy pelvis pushed down onto his ass, the sharp snap of the alpha’s hips unmistakably lewd. “You enjoying this, huh?” Ross roared with laughter as he did it again. “You havin’ fun?”

Jack almost screamed with frustration. He couldn’t move!

Whoops of encouragement from Ross’ pack rang out – they were spurring him on, _revelling_ in the embarrassment-!

Jack felt so weak, so violated … He lowered his head, shoulders shaking, as panic flooded through every nerve in his body. His head spun; he could hardly think. His worst fear had become real! He was pinned down, with an alpha bearing over him- in front of _all these people-!_

_“Enough!”_

Reyes came out of nowhere.

He ripped Ross off as easily as if he were batting away a fly – a sharp right hook sent the other alpha crashing back onto the floor. Ross howled with pain, and Jack immediately stumbled onto his feet, too freaked out to move. He needed to run - this wasn’t safe-!

Reyes towered over Ross, one hand fisted into the other man’s shirt, his face a terrifying mask of wrathful hatred. “You were ordered to fight, you piece of shit! _Fight_ – not assault-!”

“He wouldn’t tap out-!” Ross snarled right back at him. For one moment, Jack thought they were going to break out into a _real_ brawl, but then the other officer stepped in, and Reyes turned away with another strident promise of violence. He was _seething_ – Jack had never seen his pack leader look so downright terrifying before. Undoubtedly, the look in those dark eyes was that of a man who wanted to _kill._

No one really felt like continuing the training after that. It was almost lunchtime anyway.

With shaky legs, Jack made his way over to the side.  

“You alright, bro?”

Finch’s voice nearly startled him out of his skin. “Y-Yeah! Fine!” Jack whirled around, his cheeks burning with shame at his own timid response. He was probably so flushed anyway that no one would notice, but Finch definitely perceived the wince. He looked uncertain; a nervy Jack was definitely not fine.

“You should complain about that, dude … that really wasn’t OK …”

“Forget it.” Jack wiped his face down with a towel, hiding behind it. “I lost, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but-”

“-Just forget it!” Jack turned away. He couldn’t look Finch in the eye. He felt so exposed. His body ached – he was probably bruised all over, and every instinct Jack possessed was telling him to cower, to flee … In itself, that was almost unbearable, but even more devastating was the voice in the back of his mind sobbing quietly about how worthless he was; that he couldn’t do this anymore. He was weak. He was a failure. He’d been fooling himself all this time; thinking that he was worth something after all … He’d _deserved_ this … stupid, _helpless_ little omega that he was …

Slowly, the other men began to file out of the hall – time was tight; they needed to shower and eat before the afternoon’s session began.

From the corner of his eye, Jack saw Reyes stride towards the exit.

His legs moved automatically.

_“Sir, wait-!”_

Reyes didn’t.

Jack chased him through the doors and down another corridor, finally catching him at the other end.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do _what?”_ Reyes shot him a glare.

“You … You protected me …”

Reyes grunted. “What kind of alpha doesn’t protect his pack?”

Jack wasn’t fooled by this sneering dismissal - he trailed doggedly after the older man. “You didn’t care about the others! Blackburn nearly lost an eye the other day-!”

“Why are you so … ungrateful?” Reyes rounded on him again. “You shitface – You should be _thanking_ me-!”

Jack stopped. “You singled me out. Now they’re all gonna think you play favourites!”

Reyes didn’t move. His jaw set.

 _“Why?”_ Jack’s voice hardened in tone; he was bristling with annoyance. It was _his_ fault; Reyes' interference had thrown him completely off his game! “I don’t need any special treatment!” Jack pushed his hair back from his eyes, almost growling with frustration. “You _always_ pick on me-!”

“Go back to the hall, Morrison.”

“Not un-”

Reyes moved faster than Jack could see. One second he was standing angrily in the middle of the corridor, the next his back was slammed against the wall. A hand seized him by the hair, forcing his head up; the other smashed into the bricks beside his head. _“Who is your alpha?!”_

Jack instantly went limp. He wasn’t a fool; he knew when he was moments away from getting his ass beat. Reyes was beyond furious; aggression radiated from every inch of his posture and it was so overpowering, so mind-numbingly assertive that Jack could hardly think. He gasped out in a blind panic – “Y-You are, sir …”

 _“Look_ at me and say it!”

Jack parted his lips, panting for breath. Reyes was so close; his glare so intense that something broke within him - the tight rein Jack held over his instincts gave way. He tilted his head up, completely barring his throat, a symbolic gesture indicating that Reyes could do whatever he saw fit.

 _“You_ are, sir …” Jack gazed at the other man through his lashes as he looked him dead in the eye.

Reyes didn’t move. Brown eyes flicked down to survey the pale column of flesh offered to him – he looked like he was considering sinking his teeth into it.  

Jack counted his heartbeats; there were three of them before the officer finally stepped back. “You think it’s funny to disobey me – to _mock_ me in front of the others?” Reyes’ voice was low, but not quite as explosively angry now. “Is this some kind of payback?”

“Sir, I-”

“-You throw a temper tantrum like that out on a battlefield, you’re gonna get someone _killed_ one day-!”

Jack couldn’t speak. Part of him was hungry for this; for _any_ attention from Reyes at all, and that frightened him. It frightened him that even when he was so viciously angry, Jack still found the other man intensely, almost _irresistibly_ alluring-!

_Whoa. Back up there, boy!_

Jack panicked. Where the hell had _that_ thought come from?!

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with your head, Morrison, but if you’re _so_ desperate to get under my skin-”

“-Well it worked, didn’t it?” Jack’s voice came out tart. He couldn’t help it. He was … almost a little smug, to see the officer so wound up and furious … all because of _him_ …

Reyes looked stunned. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir … Would it really kill you to act a little more like the leader you’re claiming to be?”

“I am doing _everything_ my job requires-!”

“-You are _not_ doing what your pack requires, which is some goddamn _bonding!”_

Jack forced himself to stare the other man down.

Reyes rolled his eyes and growled, almost laughing. “Are you kidding me? Is _that_ what your little tantrum was all about?”

Jack didn’t answer.

“What’s the point,” the alpha went on, “of getting attached to a bunch of pups whose bodies could reject the treatment at any moment? You’re _right,_ Morrison; I’m _not_ your dad, so I’m not going to waste my time bonding with _any_ of you. So long as no one dies on my watch, I don’t give a damn!”

That … That hurt. That _really_ hurt.

Jack tried to hide it, but something must have shown on his face, because for the briefest of seconds, a mixture of guilt and uncertainty flitted across Reyes eyes; then it was gone, masked behind a scowl again.

“Does it _look_ like my body’s going to reject anything?” Jack lifted his arms. It showed off how much his physique had improved; the curves in his biceps, the way his shirt fitted him so much tighter now, pulled taunt across layers of ripped muscle that hadn’t been even half as prominent a few weeks ago. Reyes reluctantly gave him the once over, acquiescing a little. His pupils dilated as his gaze flitted down over Jack’s stomach. Jack felt his thighs tense. He liked Reyes looking at him - liked it a little too much. It made the omega inside of him want to purr and preen for attention.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, then the officer glanced up again.

“…Do you have _no_ respect for me whatsoever?”

It wasn't an answer to Jack’s question, and that set Jack off again. “You want my respect – earn it!" He tilted his head up. "C’mon, _alpha_ …”

“You know what?” Reyes looked so thrown off by this defiant behaviour that it actually made him grin. “I don’t even think you have concussion – you’re just a fucking lunatic! There is something _very_ strange about you, Jack Morrison.” He crowded into Jack’s space again, penning him back against the wall. “I’ve never come across a fool like you.”

Jack froze. Reyes was sizing him up intently; the suspicion clearer in his gaze than it had ever been before. Shit-! It felt like a bucket of ice water had been doused over Jack’s head; the reality of what he’d done hit him hard in the face, and his knees almost buckled with dread. What was _wrong_ with him?! He’d … He’d seriously said all that?! You idiot! If Jack had been facing the wall, he would’ve smashed his head against it. You’re gonna get busted-!

“Just …” His voice came out as a whisper, hesitant, pleading. “If you really _don’t_ care … then why … Why did you stop that guy from-? _Please_ … Just answer me that and I swear I’ll behave from now on.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t care.”

“That’s _exactly-”_

“-Well maybe what I _meant_ was, I don’t want to grow closer to you … than I already feel.”

Jack stopped; there was a waver in Reyes’ voice then, a hint of vulnerability that he’d never heard before. It was spoken deliberately for Jack to hear, and it completely astonished him. "You think I can watch you go through this hell ... for weeks on end, and _not_ become at least _mildly_ invested in your wellbeing?" Reyes almost laughed. "Forgive me for _trying_ to stay professional, Morrison, but I'm not exactly allowed to hold your hand-!"

"I'm not asking-!"

“-Regardless,” Reyes paused, “I’m not going to stand there and let that-” He hesitated again, seemingly searching for the right words, and a deep rumble of insults Jack didn’t quite understand hissed through the alpha’s clenched teeth, “-put his _filthy_ body on top of you.”

Jack made a sound then, halfway between a growl of annoyance and a hum of agreement. Goddammit, this alpha was completely unravelling him! He wanted to stay angry, but it was so hard not to bask in the unmistakable tone of possessiveness in Reyes’ voice. It sparked against all the hidden urges buried deep inside him; Jack revelled in, _craved_ it …

“So … you admit we _have_ bonded, then? At least a little bit …?” He licked his lips nervously, not missing how Reyes' gaze instantly followed the movement.

“What do you think?”

Jack reached up and put a hand against the broad chest penning him in; it was meant to push Reyes' back a little, to re-establish some personal space, but somehow his traitorous fingers curled into the thin fabric and tugged the alpha closer instead. Immediately, Jack could think of nothing else; Reyes' body felt like wrought iron. It took Jack every ounce of self-control not to run his hand down, to boldly feel out those warm, tight abs. “I would say, ‘yes’ …”

Reyes looked down at the hand pressed against his chest; Jack felt it rise with a sigh. “I …”

“You don’t know?” Jack prompted; pouting a little. He’d knew he’d got Reyes trapped now; he wasn’t about to let the alpha escape.

A growl vibrated against Jack’s palm. Reyes rubbed one hand tiredly over his face – stroking his beard - and Jack noticed how the brown skin of his knuckles was marred and slightly shiny with lighter scar tissue.

“Will you listen to me from now on if I start answering all these dumb questions? Is that why you’re acting like this?”

Reyes looked so unsure of himself – so defeated. Jack couldn’t help but grin.

“Nah, I just enjoy the thrill of almost getting my ass beat twice in one day. Besides,” Jack turned the grin up a notch, going full Golden Boy, - “this whole ‘grumpy asshole’ persona you’ve got going on - it’s not working out. Don’t tell me you don’t want a break from it, too.”

A tiny smile quirked Reyes’ lips then – a genuine one - and a flicker passed between them; one Jack had felt before, a hint that their sense of humour meshed well. Abruptly, Reyes moved until they were pressed torso to torso. Jack froze. His insides flooded with heat and tension, heart pounding beneath the unexpected, far too intimate touch. “Why do you look at me like that?” Reyes’ words were a mere fraction of the full conversation happening between them right now. “With those baby blue eyes …” He attempted a sneer. “Didn’t I warn you about that once already?”

“I’m not doing anything, _sir_ …” Jack’s composure cracked again. Don’t _flirt_ with the man! He berated himself even as the words slipped out, far too coy and suggestive. Push him off! Yell at him! You’ve had enough shit from alphas today-!

Still, he let Reyes carry on.

“You think I don’t see you looking – _always_ looking - like a puppy waiting for a treat?”

Both of them held eye contact for far longer than was necessary, each trying to assess exactly what this … atmosphere was. Silently asking if it was acceptable … If it was _reciprocated_ …

It was.

Jack’s eyes lidded as he felt the alpha lean close, close enough that his beard brushed against the much softer skin of his own jaw. Reyes breathed against the sensitive curve of Jack’s neck and Jack quivered, making a tiny sound in the back of his throat. If Reyes touched his lips against neck – he’d be lost – totally lost –!

“That son of a bitch scared you, didn’t he?”

Jack didn’t move.

“I can smell him on you.” Reyes shuddered with anger – Jack could feel every tiny ripple of his muscles through the thin fabric of their gym shirts. He sucked in a sharp breath, flushing with shame. He didn’t want another man’s scent on him, not _now-!_

“You know,” Reyes’ voice was so low, so heavy with emotion, “a bastard like that is not even worthy to kiss your feet-”

Jack could feel the heat creeping up over his cheeks, his neck, flushing onto his chest.

“-let alone have you spread out beneath him.”

“… As if anyone would be.” He swallowed thickly, using false arrogance to try and play the meaningful words off.

“I’m sure there are others more suitable for the challenge.” Reyes huffed out a sultry laugh, and Jack found he was rapidly losing the will to not bury his own face in the crook of the other man’s neck, to cover himself in this alpha’s scent, right from the source. He didn’t know what had come over them both – this was crazy; this was totally out of character … Maybe that fight had fucked with _both_ of their heads. Yet … it felt so natural …

“Let me guess,” Jack gripped his hands onto Reyes’ biceps, fingertips digging in, mouth practically watering as they sank into the thick muscles there, “you’re talking about yourself.”

Shit. No. Stop it. Shut the fuck up!

Jack’s mind screamed at him, but his tongue had completely turned traitor. His voice came out honeyed, all sorts of implications carefully placed there for the alpha to pick up on. He felt Reyes laugh again, but got no reply – the other man simply lifted his head and looked Jack straight in the eye. _Yes._ Jack understood what that strong gaze meant. _Without a doubt._

Maybe it simply was because their faces were so close, but Jack was almost overcome by a surging impulse to lean forward and kiss him – to kiss the knowing smirk right off those full, tempting lips –

“-Jack,” Reyes gently shrugged his hands off. “Go back to the hall. Please.”

Jack.

_Jack._

It took half a second to register that the officer had called him by name.

Jack wasn’t ready to leave; he was getting drunker by the second on Reyes' delicious scent. His inner omega practically whined at the loss when Reyes stepped back, removing the warm firmness of his torso from Jack's own.

“Since when were we on first name terms?” Jack quirked a playful brow – teasing – anything to keep the spell from breaking.  

“I outrank you, _remember?"_ Reyes didn't seem in any particular hurry to leave himself, his posture was so much more relaxed now. Affable, even. "I can call you whatever the fuck I want.”

“I didn’t think you even knew it.” Jack grinned, but a flicker of a frown passed over Reyes’ face then.

“Why would I not know it?”

“I don’t know _your_ name.”

The alpha cocked his head. “You … don’t?”

“Nope.” Jack shook his head, grinning even wider at the confused look in the other man’s eyes. He shrugged. “Never heard anyone say it. It’s always been ‘Officer Reyes’ this, ‘Officer Reyes’ that-”

“-You’ve been here almost _two_ months and you _still_ don’t even know my full name-?”

“Nuh uh …” Jack shook his head again.

Reyes gave him a long, calculating look, equal parts shrewd and cautious.

“It’s … Gabriel.”

 _“’Gabriel?’”_ Jack immediately butchered the pronunciation – he couldn’t roll the ‘R’ in quite the same way.

Reyes – Gabriel – sighed. “Yes …”

 _“Gabriel?!”_ Jack repeated again. A laugh escaped him. “Isn’t that … an angel’s name?”

“So some might say …” the alpha waited cagily.

Jack couldn’t help it. “Wow … that’s funny-!” He chuckled.

“It is a very honourable name...”

“I know-!” Jack tried to hold in his giggles. “It’s just-! You are the _least_ angelic person I have ever met-!”

Gabriel made the face of a man who had heard that remark one too many times and was utterly bored of it. “For the last time, _idiot,_ go back to the hall.”

“But _Gabriel-”_

“-You do _not_ have permission to call me that.”

“Not even when we’re off duty?”

Gabriel hesitated for half a second. _“No.”_

Jack pouted, but the alpha’s patience had evidently completely worn bare, because his hand snapped out and he grabbed Jack firmly by the chin. “Listen.” There was absolutely no room for argument in his voice now. “You want to play games with me? Fine; I get that. I get you need a distraction from this hellhole you’ve put yourself into, but let me tell you one thing, Jack … If you don’t stop all these amateur dramatics, trying to _constantly_ prove some kind of point … I might start wondering if you’re trying to _overcompensate_ for something …”

Gabriel let go of him. Jack swallowed – but the fearful lump at the back of his throat remained.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” the alpha tilted his head.

“Yes.”

Gabriel arched a brow.

“Yes, _sir.”_

“Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god Gabe’s gonna have to put this boy in toddler reigns or something because he is a HANDFUL!
> 
> Upcoming: ‘two very manipulative men try to out-manipulate each other whilst desperately resisting the urge to give in and kiss each other stupid.’ Or something. Who’s gonna crack first? IDK.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so ... this is only half of what was supposed to be Chapter 4 because I wrote too much and got too carried away I mean it's all your fault guys you keep on encouraging me and then whoops I just wrote like 3000+ extra words & 2 extra scenes LOL  
> Anyway it's gonna take me a little while to finish up the second part because I want to make it PERFECT so I figured I might as well share this in the meantime.  
> I hope that's OK ;_;

“Aw, Jack … c’mon … You can’t _still_ be upset about what happened this morning …”

In the darkness of their room, Finch’s voice echoed around the small space between the two beds. “Don’t beat yourself up so much; Ross is an asshole … Everyone knows that! His whole pack has a shitty reputation and like Oneill was saying earlier, one of these days they’re gonna get their asses handed to them – Just watch! Next time they come down to the lounge …”

Jack made no reply. He was curled up, the duvet pulled right over his head. He knew Finch was only trying to cheer him up – the whole pack had been trying to drag him out of his self-imposed corner of shame all day … but still, Jack stubbornly couldn’t let go of it. He knew brooding wasn’t going to solve anything. He _knew_ over-thinking was only going to make him feel worse, but it was one thing to acknowledge that his brain had locked itself into a useless spiral of disgrace, and another thing entirely to stop it. Jack had been battling with that – along with several _other_ emotions – for far too many hours, and so now - by the time bedtime had come around - he was completely mentally exhausted.

_Worthless … You deserved it … You’re too weak …_

“What I’m sayin,’ dude, is that there’s really no need to get all hung up about it!” Ever the chatterbox, Finch continued to talk to the ceiling. “You’re too hard on yourself, Jack. I dunno what it is about you – this … crazy perfectionist streak. You gotta relax a bit! Everyone knows that fight should’ve been yours …”

“Yeah, it _should’ve_ been … but I still _lost,_ didn’t I?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded bitter and entirely uncomforted.

“But-”

“-Look, Finch … I appreciate the pep talk, but you weren’t the one who got forced down onto his knees like some _helpless_ little bitch in front of everyone, so lay off, alright?”

“Shit, man, I’m just trying to help!” Finch grumbled. “Don’t take it out on me!”

 _“… Sorry …”_ Jack instantly felt a thousand times worse.

There was a pause.

“You _sure_ Reyes didn’t say something when you ran after him? You disappeared for quite a while …”

Beneath the duvet, Jack tensed; he’d been dreading this question – they’d all kept on pestering him about it throughout the day, unsatisfied by his repeatedly vague replies.

“We were getting kinda worried …” Finch prompted. “Almost came looking for ya …”

“I _told_ you; nothing much.” Jack forced out a sigh. “He just … smacked me around a bit, called me a lunatic and then told me to fuck off …”

Well, that wasn’t _exactly_ a lie …

“Yeah?” Finch chuckled. “Well … maybe it’s a good thing you _did_ lose … Y’know, ‘cause it took his mind off all that other shit you pulled. I mean it’s one thing to get cocky, but straight-up insubordination …? You got balls, Jack … I’ll give you that. You might end up having to sew ‘em back on once Reyes is done with you, but still …”

 _“Hn …”_ It was hard to tell if the noise Jack made was smug or uncomfortable.

“Seriously thought he was gonna put you in the med-bay after that stunt,” the redhead went on. “Lott was taking bets on it.”

“… Nice to know you guys have faith in me.”

“Hey, _c’mon_ … Didn’t mean it like that!” Finch protested again. “You _know_ Reyes! Must be that ‘Golden Boy’ luck of yours, huh? Getting you out of trouble again …”

“I wish …” Jack did laugh a little then, half-heartedly. You know what? – He wanted to correct Finch – I think I might be in more trouble than I’ve ever been in before, because I nearly _kissed_ our goddamn senior officer, and I’m almost ninety-nine percent sure he knew it, and now he’s gonna make my life hell because of it.

“I guess he thought getting dry-humped by an ugly fucker like Ross was punishment enough …” Finch chuckled again.

Jack winced; he really didn’t feel like responding to that. Silence fell.

A few minutes passed. Jack waited. He pulled the duvet down a little and listened carefully – the slow, deep breaths coming from the other side of the room indicated that Finch had already fallen asleep. He was always like that; on and off quicker than a light switch. Jack sighed. Finally, some peace.

Or at least as much peace as it was possible to get when you were still completely, utterly riled up. Jack’s inner monologue was racing a hundred miles a minute. He still couldn’t process what had transpired between him and Reyes … between him and _Gabriel_ …

Jack chewed on his lower lip, struggling to get the searing image of the alpha banished from his head. One minute they’d been at each other’s throats, the next … they’d practically been purring against each other … Gabriel had been so angry at him, so protective … _so mind-numbingly sexy …_  

_Stop it!_

Jack pushed his face into the pillow, drawing his knees up to his chest as he clenched his legs.  

His dick ached.

It was all he could think about.

Jack knew there were matters that should have warranted more of his attention; for one thing, the undoubtable fact that Ross and the rest of his pack were now going to be out for his blood ought to have been more of a concern … but Jack found he couldn’t hold those worries in his mind. Right now, all he could think about was the _demand_ of the sensations pooling between his legs.

He knew he was in trouble.

 _So_ much trouble.

He’d _wanted_ Gabriel’s attention, and now he’d got it.

Shouldn’t have enabled that moment. Jack tried to scold himself, but it was hard to feel truly repentant when there were so many butterflies rattling around inside his ribcage. You shouldn’t have been so shameless … God only knows what he thinks of you now! You’re not supposed to get close to anyone – not like _that!_ You _can’t-!_

_“Haven’t ever seen Reyes get like that before-”_

_“-He just fuckin’ lost it, man-”_

_“-You’d think it was his wife bein’ attacked, or some shit …”_

_“I recon Ross got a broken nose outta that- something went with a crack!”_

A tiny smirk curved Jack’s lips as unbidden, the mutterings of his packmates replayed once more through his mind. Yeah … He’d sure caught that temperamental bastard out alright! Gabriel could claim indifference as much as he wanted; actions spoke louder than words. He’d freaked out, and that _meant_ something.

Jack stretched out his legs again, wriggling his hips a little as he tried to get comfortable. It was almost pitch-black in the room, and Finch was now borderline snoring. Jack almost laughed bitterly to himself as he let one hand idly slip down to toy with the cord on the waistband of his shorts. Who would’ve guessed that surly, standoffish and cynical was _painfully_ his type?

It was a revelation even to himself.

Jack let his mind wonder for a moment, indulging in the memories – the way Gabriel’s dark smile had felt like a knife blade against his skin. He _knows_ something’s not right about you. Jack shivered at the thought, but it wasn’t all because he was afraid. He’s not stupid. He’s _dangerous …_

Jack knew he’d started a risky game. He wasn’t going to lie to himself; he _wanted_ the alpha. He toyed for a moment with the idea of encouraging encounters like that a little more … How long could he play it out? Jack let the recollection meld into fantasy – a few stolen kisses, maybe more …?

Ah, but what was the point? Jack knew he could only take it so far before he’d need to reject Reyes - probably harshly - and that would undoubtedly turn life sour pretty quick. No … Can’t risk it. Jack slid a hand down over the front of his shorts and gave his half-hard dick a commiserating squeeze. He couldn’t allow himself to forget what he was – it was physically impossible to engage in activites of _that_ nature … with anyone – they’d figure out what he was in a heartbeat. Besides, the last thing Jack wanted to do was shred the already delicate understanding they'd managed to form. Jack felt faintly pleased that he'd finally managed to crack Reyes out of his surly veener - if only for a few moments, getting the other man to open up even minutely felt like a triumph. What little he'd seen of Gabriel's personality so far - the banter, the bluntness ... Jack liked it. He didn't want to ruin everything by making Reyes grow to hate him now ...

Engulfed by a sudden wave of self-loathing, Jack gritted his teeth. If he'd truly been born a beta ... He would have gone for it. Jack felt sure he would've been able to seduce Reyes so easily … Might have even plucked up the courage to go straight to Gabriel’s quarters after hours and _offer_ himself-!

Well … perhaps not quite, but Jack so was pent-up that the fantasy seemed conceivable for half a minute. He hadn’t felt this intensely curious about anyone before … Hadn’t ever allowed himself the opportunity to. It contradicted every survival instinct Jack had ingrained into himself, and that only served to rile him up even more. He’d always known that his preferences lay with men … How could they not, with him being what he was? But apart from the odd, appreciative glance at a fellow soldier’s build, or a sneaky peak in the shower unit – C’mon, he was barely out of his teenage years; he couldn’t help himself sometimes-! – He’d never really given it too much thought. A sex life wasn’t something Jack had ever considered would be for him, never mind any other type of … _emotional_ liaison …

It wasn’t as if there was much time to attend to needs like that in the army, anyway. Privacy wasn’t exactly easy to get around here. At one time, Jack had even felt quite superior about his lacklustre libido – the heat suppressor implanted into his arm had a neat side effect of dulling that down too. He’d pitied the other men – the poor fools, such slaves to their uncontrollable hormones …

Boy did Jack regret that now! It felt like over two years of suppressed urges had decided to deluge him all at once; the more he tried to ignore the tingling, incessant ache in his lower belly, the more the vivid memory of being pressed up against Gabriel’s chest would rise up again – of how warm and powerful the alpha’s body had felt …

Should’ve kissed him. Jack swallowed a groan and curled up again. Should’ve gone and done it and got the shit beat out of him for such impudence – then he wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation right now; dick throbbing, desperate for attention …

Finch’s breathing was still even and oblivious.

He might have kissed you back, though …

A tiny murmur of hope danced through Jack’s mind. You saw that look in his eyes. He was considering it too.

Remembering was too much - Jack gave in – he lightly traced his fingertips over his shorts, feeing out the head of his cock as he lost himself in the fantasy. He rolled his thumb in a soft, gentle cirlce, shivering slightly as the fabric started to grow a little damp. It wasn't long before Jack couldn’t stand these fleeting, feather-light touches any longer; he slid a hand beneath the thin fabric and breathed a sigh of relief. One quick stroke and he instantly felt better –

-Only for the pressure to return almost twice as strong as before.

Finch shifted; the duvet rustled as he rolled onto his side.

Jack froze.

He was curled away from the other man, his front facing the wall, the bulk of his side blocking any suspicious movements from view. Jack knew he was so pent-up that he could easily rub out a quick one without much effort. How long had it been? Weeks …? No, _months_ by now … It was tempting – so very tempting …

Finch shifted again, mumbling to himself – the fool talked even in his sleep! Jack huffed out a tiny grumble and pulled his hand out of his shorts. No. He couldn’t do it. He was too embarrassed by the thought of getting caught. Finch might get the wrong idea; might think it was _Ross_ he’d been fantasizing about …

Even considering it was enough to make Jack’s arousal wilt.

He tried to will himself to sleep, but he was too paranoid now – each tiny sound in the room seemed intensely loud; the hum of the aircon unit, the static from the sleeping holoscreens, every slight move that Finch made … Jack could hear all of it far, _far_ too distinctly. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed this, but in the otherwise complete silence of the bedroom Jack became acutely aware of the oddity again. He _shouldn’t_ have been able to hear Finch’s breathing from the opposite side of the room – not as clearly as though they were lying side by side.

A week ago, he wouldn’t have.

His vision, too … Jack had started to notice weird things about that. Even though the room was dark, he could still see almost everything. Granted, it was all in muted shades of grey and then more grey … but the level of detail, the way his eyes could so easily pick up the smallest of details … Jack rolled over and reached out, tugging one of the comic books from the bedside table onto his chest. It fell open at a random page as he propped it up, and Jack stared at the tiny speech bubbles. He could read every word – could see every line - sharp as day.

A week ago, he and Finch were still bickering about what time to turn off the light.

Evidently the SEP’s ‘magical’ serum still had a few secrets to reveal about the changes it was slowly working through their bodies. Jack was even starting to wonder if he didn’t need as much sleep as he used to … but then again, given the way Finch could still easily snore an entire night away, maybe that was simply a gift from his old friend insomnia.

Enhanced sensory input was undoubtedly the pack’s latest development, though – and it wasn’t nearly as neat as it sounded. Jack and the rest of the men soon found themselves becoming overly nervy, with frequent headaches and snappish behaviour – their mentality constantly run ragged from the sheer deluge of information their newly sharpened senses were picking up at any one time. Dining became a nightmare – the tastes, the _smells_ … It was all too much for Jack on some days.

He should have known something was up the moment Gabriel appeared to eat lunch with them a few days later – for the first time ever, no less … but Jack had been so staunchly determined not to catch the other man’s eye that he didn’t allow himself to consider what motive might lurk behind the alpha’s abrupt u-turn in behaviour. Intending to act entirely unfazed, Jack shoved a forkful of food into his mouth, only to promptly spit it all back out again – and mostly over Blackburn – in a splutter of absolute revulsion. His tongue had gone into overdrive! Everything tasted … so wrong … Horribly, _horribly_ wrong; too much, too strong, with too many layers and _textures_ and sensations …

Gabriel made a low sound deep in the back of his throat. It might have been derisive, as he pointedly began to eat without any apparent distress. Expletives and groans of disgust reverberated around the table – by this point, none of the men were particularly surprised by such a side effect; it was more of a … ‘Oh for fuck’s sake what _now_ ’ kind of response.

“Just eat,” Gabriel finally snapped, an unshakable island amidst the rolling lamentations of the rest of the pack. “You’ll get used to it after a while. You’ll stop noticing the difference. Do I look like I’m suffering, huh? _Eat!”_  

Finch wailed that he’d never be able to enjoy food ever again. Privately, Jack agreed, but Gabriel made such a show of cleaning his plate – his knife a deafening screech as he scraped up every last morsel –– Look at that smirk, the bastard; he knew how sensitive their ears were too! –  that Jack forced himself to gulp down half a bowl of soup to escape the alpha’s intimidating insistence that _no one_ would leave the table until everyone had eaten something.

By the time they were done, Jack’s temper was threadbare. He couldn’t stop himself from sidling over to his officer – Gabriel lingered at the table, flicking through something on a holoscreen while the others carried their mostly untouched plates back to the counter. “You know,” Jack spoke quietly, through gritted teeth, “I get that dining with us was supposed to be a reassurance, but it kind of _doesn’t work_ when you act like an asshole about it.”

“Ah, you make such a cute face when you’re angry.” Gabriel snapped the screen away, reaching out to ruffle Jack’s hair as he stood up. His voice was honey-thick with mockery. “Life must be so easy when you have cheeks like a cherub-”

“-What have my _cheeks_ got to do with anything-?” Jack hissed like a petulant cat.

Gabriel merely raised his brows. “Would be a shame to lose them again from _starving_ yourself, no? Complain all you want; me being here made you eat something today.”   

 _“You-”_ Jack growled low in his throat, thought better of it, and then stomped off. Catching up to the others, he mentally patted himself on the back for not taking the bait. He knew Gabriel was playing games with him now, and admittedly, Jack kind of liked it. Sparring with Finch and the others was fun and all, but it lacked … the thrill, the _spark_ that zipped maddeningly through Jack’s centre whenever Gabriel so much as looked his way. It was exactly the right amount of tease to provide a welcome distraction, without making him worry too much about his safety … and to be honest, at this stage, Jack welcomed anything, _anything_ that would take his mind off the non-stop inundation of his finely-tuned senses.

Unfortunately, more challenges were to come.

It started as a prickling feeling against Jack’s skin; gone were the days when it burned after an infusion, but … had his uniform always been so scratchy? Had the bedsheets always felt so rough? Had he always been so acutely aware of the slightest change in temperature – so much so that Jack could now pick out individual currents swirling in the air all around them? No, definitely not, Jack thought, as he cowered and shuddered in the communal shower room, every individual water drop feeling like a sharp, electric zing. As an omega, his skin had already been far too sensitive. Now, it was hell.

At least the others weren’t much better off – if the complaints echoing around each cubicle were anything to go by. Lott wouldn’t stay under the water for longer than a few seconds. Finch couldn’t stop squeaking. Even Jack had to admit that not freaking out was hard; touching his own body felt so … intense, even when all he was doing was soaping himself down.

He wondered briefly what it would feel like to have another’s hands on him – and then immediately wanted to curse, because – _of-fucking-course_ – his mind instantly selected an example; a certain someone with darker skin and big, calloused fingers and knuckles that were all veiny and scarred.

Said person wasn’t quite so patient about this particular new development. When all of the pack had finally managed to stop bleating long enough to wash off the sweat that still coated them from their earlier cross-country run, they discovered that Gabriel was already way ahead of them, waiting in the changing area fully dressed, arms folded and scowling as though he’d been standing there for hours.

Jack’s stomach immediately backflipped at the sight. He scrambled to grab his towel – two years in the army had long since banished any fear of nudity, but being stark naked and dripping with water in front of _Gabriel –_ after _that_ encounter _-_ was another matter entirely. Jack certainly didn’t want the alpha getting an eyeful of him in his most vulnerable state, not when he himself was fully clothed; a stark contrast which made it feel all the more embarrassing.

Fortunately, the water in the barracks only came in two varieties – ‘Siberian Winter’ or ‘Scalding Geyser,’ and either would inevitably always turn Jack bright pink in the face, so everyone remained oblivious to his violent blush.

“What the fuck were you guys doing in there?” Gabriel immediately thundered at them. “You all shaving your legs or something? Get a move on! We don’t have all day!”

Oneill, in his typical, smug alpha way, actually found the audacity to retort, “Sorry, sir; Morrison was giving us all tips on how to get silky-smooth!”

Jack gritted his teeth. Oh, _naturally_ he was once again the foil of the pack – this was a recurrent wisecrack – because unlike all the others, his fine blonde hair hardly showed up against his skin at all, and that was - apparently - _hilarious._

 _“Clearly_ someone’s vision enhancements have failed!” Jack pasted a wide, fixed sneer onto his face as he thrust out an arm. “See!”

“You call _that_ hair?” Blackburn leant over. “Looks more like fluff!”

“You wanna see real hair – check _this_ out!” Lott proffered his own, admittedly much more luxuriously furred arm.

Jack rolled his eyes. At least today’s masculinity competition was arm hair, and not hair someplace else …

“He doesn’t even shave every day!” Finch – mid-way through towelling himself off – paused to shoot Jack a wicked grin. “I’ve seen him! Fuckin’ baby face!”

Jack got caught up in the banter. Momentarily forgetting that Gabriel was even there, he leered right back; “At least I don’t have ginger-”

“-Shit, _mijo,_ you even got hair down _there_ yet?”

Someone hooked their finger into the towel Jack had firmly wrapped around his waist, tugging it lose. It slid down a few inches, exposing his belly button and the sharp, v-line slope of his inner hips. Jack reacted lightning fast – he whirled around, smacking the offending hand away as he snarled out a pretty hefty curse.

Gabriel – standing way too close – promptly burst out laughing.  

Jack flinched; mortified, as he tightly knotted the towel around himself again. His heart started pounding– the alpha’s grin was so amused and so genuine that it completely stunned him. Jack barely noticed as the rest of the pack instantly dissolved into a mass of howling amusement. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from that bright smile – the way it completely lit up Gabriel’s face. There was so much youthful humour in those dark brown eyes … It sharply reminded Jack of exactly how little the age difference between them truly was.

_“Uh oh! Jackie’s gonna throw a tantrum-!”_

_“Brace yourselves boys-!”_

“I’m not your ‘mee-ho’ …” Snapping himself out of it, Jack shot the other man a resentful look. “Quit messing with me!” He paused, and then carefully enunciated - “ _’Cierra la boca!_ ’”

“Shit!” Gabriel laughed even harder, delighted, his eyes crinkling up in the most attractive way. “Who taught you that?”

“We’re in the army.” Jack, still trying to get a grip on himself, huffed out a faux sigh as he deadpanned; “You think I’ve never heard any Spanish before?”

In all fairness, like the rest of the men, Jack actually had a fairly well-versed vocabulary in several languages – being surrounded by folk from so many different cultures on the daily made it impossible not to pick up the odd phrase or two. Jack felt he’d probably hold up pretty well in a Spanish conversation, so long as he was only expected to remark on the state of someone’s appearance, mother or sex life.

“Fair enough …” Gabriel acquiesced. 

Jack tilted his head up with a playful, patronizing smirk. “See, looks _and_ brains! It’s no wonder you’re all pissed off by me, huh?” Furiously clutching his towel, he retreated to a safe, empty spot on the other side of the room before continuing to set out his bait. “Most girls don’t even _like_ men covered in hair, anyway! I’m _blessed!”_

A chorus of _‘Yeah, sure, whatever makes you feel better Morrison!_ ’ went up, but then Lott made a tongue-in-cheek remark about Oneill’s sister and so instantly the pack rounded on him, thus sparing Jack from any further taunts. Only Gabriel’s attention didn’t stray – he strolled around to lean against the wall mere inches from where the omega had just managed to pull on a pair of pants in record speed.

“It’s funny,” he murmured, so quietly that even with Jack’s enhanced hearing he could barely distinguish the words from the laughter ricocheting off the tiles, “but I could’ve sworn I got the impression you didn’t care for girls, Morrison.”

Something lanced right down the centre of Jack’s abdomen; hot, nervy … anticipating. He slowly pulled on a clean shirt, making a show of taking his time – partially because he wanted to wind the other man up, and partially because Jack needed those few extra seconds to steady his nerve. “Funny,” he finally parroted back, voice scarcely audible as he glanced coyly over one shoulder, “because I could’ve sworn the same about _you.”_

Gabriel grinned even wider, wolfishly, not denying a thing.

Jack practically had to read his lips to hear what he said next.

“Guess I _do_ have a weakness for pretty blue eyes …”

_Shit._

Jack flushed and then looked away. He heard Gabriel chuckle. It wasn’t fair! Why was it always only _him_ getting flustered?

Impulsively, Jack decided to try his luck. Chancing a split-second glance to make sure the others were still suitably distracted, he reached out – quick as anything – and brushed the still-damp locks of ever-so-slightly curly hair back from Gabriel’s brow.

 “-the fuck you doing?” the alpha immediately stepped back, clearly startled as he shoved Jack’s hand away.

“Your hair was messy. I fixed it.” Jack tried, and then failed, to hold in his little smirk. “Since I know you’ll be giving us a uniform inspection the moment we get out of here, I thought you’d … uh … want to keep up that ‘lead by example’ thing.”

His overly-sensitised fingers tingled; Gabriel’s hair felt like silk. Jack resisted the urge to reach out again, to run his hand over the much shorter fuzz at the sides. He scolded himself for not sneaking a feel before – he’d had the perfectly opportunity to last time …

For one second, Gabriel stared him down – the glint in those dark eyes warning Jack that if they’d been alone, he would have rapidly found himself pinned between the wall and that brawny body by now. Something new about the alpha’s expression caught Jack’s attention again; there was a suggestion of uncertainty about the way he pressed his lips together, the faintest hint of red flushing the highest point of his cheeks …

“You really want to talk about hair with _that_ bird’s nest?” Snapping himself out of it, Gabriel cuffed him lightly across the side of the head. “You’re _barely_ within regulations! I might order you to shave yourself bald!”

“You wouldn’t.” Jack wasn’t fazed. “You’d miss being able to grab me by it.”

Gabriel snorted – but he looked away, and Jack finally felt the pang of satisfaction he’d been seeking. Got him!  “Speaking of regulations,” he _had_ to have one last little dig, “since when has facial hair been allowed here?”

“It isn’t,” Gabriel was quick to retaliate, “for lowlifes like you, but when you’re one of the most powerfully enhanced soldiers in the entire world, you get a few perks.”  He fixed Jack with a pointed look, one corner of his mouth curling up again. “Not that it would ever make a difference to you.”

Jack half opened his mouth to reply-

“-Beard-growing competition!” Finch burst into the moment, slapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders. He’d evidently overheard at least the last part of their conversation, because his grin stretched almost ear to ear. “Let’s do it when we get leave! _C’mon!”_

“Yeah, I’ll pass on that …” Jack shook him off, moving away to pull on his boots. Gabriel shook his head contemptuously, switching straight back into grumpy officer mode with frightening speed. He hollered at the others to hurry up, stomping out of the changing room without so much as a backwards glance.   

“You two are funny.” Finch occupied the space the alpha had been standing in mere moments before. He stretched out his arms, giving Jack a knowing, sidelong glance that immediately put his hackles up.

“…What do you mean?”

“You bicker like a couple.”

Jack didn’t answer; he shot Finch a warning look, but the redhead merely gave him a sly, shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, eh? _Buddy._ ”

He winked, and then sauntered off.

Jack groaned audibly, teeth gritted, because he knew the way Finch said that probably meant he’d have to cover the other man’s chores for at least a month in order to buy his silence. Great. Now look what you’ve done! Jack felt completely at war with himself. He’d slipped up again. He’d encouraged Gabriel to flirt with him – practically _invited_ the attention – and thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.    

You gotta stop it, Jack. He gave himself a little shake. _It’s getting dangerous._

 

 

***

 

 

“You smell hella weird, dude.”

It came out of nowhere about a week or so later. Jack immediately went rigid, heart racing as he turned to give Finch a wide-eyed, startled glance. “Huh?”

Finch sniffed again, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. “Dunno. Noticed it a while ago … Your scent … S’kinda weird.”

“… Is it?” Jack slowly turned away, returning to stripping the bedsheet off the mattress so he didn’t have to look his roommate in the eye. His hands started sweating, mouth suddenly dry. Jack had no idea what was going on – what had brought _this_ on. His implant was still functioning fine; true identity perfectly masked between a nice, healthy beta scent.

“Yeah …” Finch scratched the side of his face idly. “Hard to explain. It’s kinda like … a _chemical_ smell?”

Jack straightened up again, posture stiff, clutching the bedding in his arms as though it were a swathe of protection. “Must be another weird side-effect …”

“Not noticed it on anyone else.” Finch shrugged. “Might wanna mention it the next time we’re down in the lab. Y’know; get it checked out … Or buy some better soap, or something ..." the beta shot him a cheeky grin. 

“Y-Yeah …” Jack tried to laugh, edging nonchalantly towards the door. “I’ll do that!”

He practically ran down the hallway to the laundry room.

Shit. _Shit-!_

Jack’s hands shook as he stuffed the bedding into one of the machines. Surely it didn’t mean anything! Surely Finch was only messing around …

Calm down. Jack fumbled for a packet of detergent. Just calm down. It doesn’t mean anything. Even if they'd started to notice something was different about him ... it still didn't mean he'd been caught out! It'll be easy to explain away, Jack told himself. God only knows all the weird symptoms they'd had - this wasn't a big deal! 

It must be the sensory enhancement.

Jack slammed the lid of the washer shut. He was so used to his own scent that he’d grown blind to it, but … he turned his face into his shoulder, inhaling.

Finch was right.

Now Jack could smell not only the scent of a beta, but the _chemicals_ that were making up that scent too – and there was definitely something not right - not _natural_ about them. It was too sterile, too synthetic … Perhaps still subtle enough for someone who didn't know to figure out, but strange enough to alert anyone who got close enough that it was _wrong._

_Shit-!_

Jack was one shallow breath away from falling into a full-blown panic attack.

Gabriel must have noticed it right from the very start.

He _must_ have been able to tell-!

Jack sank down onto his haunches in front of the machine. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean he knows what you are. He’d _never_ guess! Jack ran through all the reasons why it was impossible for someone to suss him out – he was so far removed from what an omega was supposed to be! He wasn’t small and passive and timid. He didn’t need anyone to protect him … and the implant – it was such a rare technology … Literally impossible to get-!

Jack tried to kid himself that perhaps Gabriel wouldn’t even know such a thing existed.

He took a deep breath. You can think of something, Jack! You always have done. You’ve _always_ found a way!

Water started to pour into the machine. Jack noticed he was still holding the pod of detergent in his hand. With a curse, he yanked the lid open, intending to toss it quickly inside - only for the door to wrench right off at the hinges. “ _Seriously?!”_ Jack leapt back as water gushed over his boots. _“Aaugh!”_ He flung the severed lid at the wall. All this extra strength was going to be the death of him. It was like learning how to function all over again-! How many bottles was he going to crush simply by trying to twist off the cap? How many things was he going to _break_ before he learnt-?

“Ohh … Jackie-boy …” Oneill appeared in the doorway with a bundle of his own laundry. He took one look at Jack, at the water flooding all over the floor, and grinned. “Someone’s havin’ a bad day already, huh?”

Jack couldn’t even fake a laugh this time.

_“… You have no fucking idea.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently Gabe can pull off the ol' 'million-dollar smile' trick better than Jack and he's not even aware of it!! I'm really excited to show off more of his personality and also Jack's as they start actually getting to know to each other!!
> 
> Upcoming: Secret tattoos. Separation anxiety. Is waking him up at 4.00am REALLY a smart idea?
> 
> See you next time! ;)
> 
> Note: Jack told Gabe to 'shut your mouth' in probably awfully accented Spanish. At least I think he did. Apologies if I messed up, but I feel like one of the perks of a multicultural / interracial couple is you often have two or more languages in which to flirt / tease each other - double the fun lol - so I want to include it now and then! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone had (is still having?) a much needed rest over this festive season!  
> Here is your gift from Auntie Bambifawn, I hope you enjoy! :)

 

For the time being, Finch made no further comment about Jack’s scent.

Jack was careful not to bring it up.

None of the others seemed to have noticed, or if they had, no one dared mention it.

It was hardly surprising; the next morning they were all hit by news so unexpected that it completely preoccupied everyone’s minds.

Officer Reyes was being deployed on a mission.

Which meant he’d be leaving them – for at least a few weeks.

Jack stood in the entrance hall to the barracks with the rest of his pack, feeling a little shell-shocked while Gabriel curtly explained that temporarily, they’d all been reassigned to the care of Pack 9’s officer – a certain alpha named Hyde - and so would be training alongside them from now on.

“When will you be back?” Lott’s visible look of anxiety mimicked exactly how Jack felt – like a rug had been pulled out from under his feet.

“Whenever my work is done.” Gabriel’s expression remained deadpan.

“Man, I don’t wanna train with that lot …” Finch protested. “Why’d you gotta go, huh? Why can’t they send someone else?”

“Because I’m one of the most capable soldiers currently in existence, so it’s about time I finally got a chance to do some _real_ work instead of being cooped up in here, babysitting a bunch of pups!”

Jack didn’t move. He watched Gabriel’s face, noting with a pang how familiar the other man’s evasive behaviour now was; the way the alpha could so easily bottle-up what he truly wanted to say …

Oneill folded his arms across his chest. “I doubt Pack 9’s gonna welcome us in. Can’t see anyone being happy about this.”

“It’s not open for discussion.”

“Don’t they understand how difficult this is?” Blackburn gritted his teeth. “It’s bad enough being a lab rat! We’re not puppets … Either leave us all in one big squad, or let the packs be – tossing us around like this is only going to make training even harder-!”

“Exactly!” Lott turned to the others. “How are we supposed to accept a new pack leader so easily-?”

 _“-No one_ is replacing me!” Gabriel’s voice hardened. “It’s only temporary. I’m _still_ the leader of this pack and you little ingrates better not forget it-!”

“-I won’t accept anyone else,” Blackburn shook his head. “I don’t care – if they start giving us shit, I’ll fight the lot of them-!”

“… Good.” A hint of pride slipped past Gabriel’s professionalism. “I don’t expect the men I trained to let anyone push them around.”

“Don’t worry,” Oneill grinned at him. “We won’t.”

A short pause followed – no one seemed to know what else to say.

Jack wanted to speak up; he was painfully aware that he was the only one who hadn’t offered any kind of parting remark, but somehow his voice felt stuck in the back of his throat, wedged tightly behind a heavy press of unease.

“Well …” Finch scratched the back of his head. “Stay safe out there, I guess …”

Gabriel made a vague noise. He started to turn away. Jack tensed. He couldn’t – He didn’t know what to do-! His voice wouldn’t come out-!

 _“Sir-! Wait!”_ A ripple of cohesiveness passed through the pack, and all of them – except Jack – suddenly moved as one, surging forward to engulf the officer in a rough-and-tumble group hug of crushing proportions.

“Wha-?! Get off me, you little fuckers!” Gabriel flailed in surprise as he tried to struggle out from the middle, but his wide grin betrayed his true feelings – he playfully fought them all off.

Only Jack didn’t move.

He stared at the scene, uncertain … lost.

Over Finch’s shoulder, still caught in a loose headlock by Oneill, Gabriel met his gaze.

“You’d better come back.” Jack’s voice came out soft.

“I’m offended you think something would happen to me,” the alpha managed a sneer.

“I’m serious!” Jack growled at him, reaching through the others to grab his shoulder. “You’d _better_ come back!”

“And _you’d_ better still be here when I do.” Gabriel shoved his hand against Jack’s face, batting him away. “All of you! You hear me-?!”

_“Yessir!”_

Falling back, they saluted as their officer straightened his uniform and strode away. Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from calling out again – this was too sudden; it didn’t feel safe at all – but then the large doors of the entranceway clanged shut, and Gabriel was gone. Jack tried to convince himself that the alpha had sought out his gaze in the reflection of the glass for a split-second; wanting to share one final look …

Uncomfortable silence lingered for half a minute.

All of them were undoubtedly thinking the same thing; without a leader, without that protection … life was going to get rough. Reyes’ rank and status were an invisible shield that kept them safe from many of the disputes and rivalries that plagued the other packs. Jack wasn’t worried about any fighting from within – they’d all grown far too close for that – but now Pack 8 was practically a sitting target.

It was almost comical how easily everyone had fallen into an ‘Us’ vs ‘Them’ mentality, especially after being so used to operating in large squads for so long. Rivalry was undeniably the atmosphere that prevailed throughout the program now, and it made Jack anxious to think about the future – what was going to happen when they graduated into SEP’s official ranks? Expecting cooperation from a group of men who’d previously been raised to see each other as borderline enemies wasn’t exactly going to prove fruitful. Some higher-up really hadn’t thought this scheme through, Jack concluded; it was a mess from start to finish. Everyone knew you couldn’t just chop and change pack hierarchies like this. It never worked.

Jack’s inner omega was almost in tears at the thought of having to do something so socially stressful.

“Well, gentlemen …” Oneill kept his voice low. “I hope you’re ready to fend for yourselves, because I get the feeling these next few weeks are going to be _fun.”_

They weren’t.

Jack dreaded every moment of it.

Pack 9 were, to their credit, welcoming enough … in a highly reluctant, standoffish, awkward kind of way. A palpable divide remained between the two groups at all times, and even though during training their cooperation persevered civilly, every interaction was enduringly strained. Jack didn’t care for his new officer at all – Hyde was so … _bland,_ compared to Reyes; there was no charisma, no spark … nothing. It didn’t help that he naturally favoured his own men, and so directed the newcomers almost guiltily, as though he was embarrassed to have to divert his attentions onto them. Blackburn had been absolutely right, Jack realized; it was one thing to be forcibly assigned to a pack, but another thing entirely to have their already established associations completely disregarded.

Jack couldn’t stop worrying about Gabriel.

He lay awake for hours at a time, fretting about where the other man might be. Was he still even in the country? Not knowing any details only served to make the separation feel a hundred times worse. Cmmunications were never passed onto them, and Jack knew without even having to ask that it was going to stay that way.

It seemed puzzling – for the higher-ups to send out their strongest men at a time like this; they weren’t the only pack to have been provisionally shunted into another, so Reyes clearly hadn’t been deployed alone … even though the world was relatively peaceful right now. Jack wasn’t aware of any specific conflicts or threats to national security … or at least, none that had suddenly grown from a background menace into a prominent reality overnight.

What if Gabriel was doing something dangerous? Jack pondered for hours at a time. It must have been a covert mission; something underground … Maybe reconnaissance? A heist? _Assassination?_ He scoured the news on his holoscreen daily for any stories that might hold the tiniest of clues, but nothing ever caught Jack’s eye, so his imagination continued to conjure up scenarios that grew prolifically more heart-wrenching with each passing night. What if Gabriel got captured by an enemy, or ended up stuck somewhere – injured – tortured – alone?! What if he simply … never returned …?

Well … we’re soldiers; that’s what we do. Jack tried to shut his fears off. He couldn’t tell where his normal anxiety ended and his omega-ish inclination to grow irrationally attached to people began anymore. Either way, it was a weakness Jack felt he ought not to have; he’d signed over the luxury of being able to worry about anyone a long time ago. Becoming a solider went hand in hand with personal sacrifice – Jack was quick to remind himself that he’d chosen to dedicate his life to serving his country, protecting its people … _Proving himself-!_

He knew he ought to have been occupying his mind with far more important things, like coming up with a believable excuse the next time someone decided to ask about his scent – because it _was_ going to happen again; it was only a matter of time. Jack wasn’t naïve enough to think he was off the hook …

He also wondered if he’d crossed Gabriel’s mind even once since he’d left.

 

 

_***_

_“Yo, blondie! What you doing all hidden away in here?”_

With an almighty bang, Finch kicked open the door to their room. “We’re gonna get a game going down in the lounge! C’mon!”

Jack looked up – he was sprawled out on his bed, idly browsing the barrack’s heavily restricted version of the internet. “Ah, thanks but … I’ll pass for tonight …”

Finch wrinkled his nose. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing …”

“You’ve been stuck in here every night this week!”

“I’m … not feeling so great, alright?” Jack avoided his gaze. “Sorry.”

 _“Really?_ You sick?”

“No, I … I’m … I need some time out for a while …”

“Hn.” Finch either didn’t get the hint, or chose to ignore it. “Someone upset you, huh? Who was it? I know you’re hiding-”

“-I’m _not_ hiding!” Irritably, Jack sat up. He ruffled a hand through his messy hair and sighed heavily. How was he supposed to explain to Finch that yes – he _was_ hiding – but from everyone? Jack’s paranoia was threatening to eat him alive. He’d barely been able to cope with day-to-day training since Gabriel had left … never mind having to put on an act afterhours. He was terrified that their new officer would get too close – get a clear hint of his scent and start asking questions …

Jack still wasn’t sure what he’d say if anyone else started nosing around. He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t want anyone near him … and the fact that he couldn’t adequately protect his personal space at all times felt maddeningly upsetting. Admittedly, Jack had cracked a little. He’d given in to his nature and huddled himself away in his room as often as possible. Let the others think what they liked! By this time, Jack felt far too emotionally drained to care.

For a moment, Finch didn’t reply; then a slow, sly smile spread across his face. “Oh, I get it.”

Alarmed, Jack looked up. “…What?”

“I see how it is …”

“Finch, _what?”_

“You’re _pining.”_

Jack blinked at him. “Huh?”

 _“Aw,_ buddy …” With a chuckle, the other man did exactly what Jack didn’t want – he flopped down onto the end of the bed, loafing far too close. “Poor little Jackie-boy’s all sad and lonely because his favourite alpha’s gone away …”

“Stop it!” Jack growled, inching further up the bed.

“I figured you had a thing for alphas,” Finch nonchalantly tilted his head, “but I guess none of the others are good enough for you, huh? Not even Oneill-?”

 “-Go _away,_ Finch-”

 “-You missin’ your hunky Latino-”

 _“-Shut up!”_ Jack grabbed a pillow and threatened to smother the redhead with it. “Don’t talk about Reyes like that! He’s not – We’re … He’s our pack _leader,_ you idiot! Just … lay off.”

Finch rolled around beneath the attack, laughing even harder. “I knew it; I fucking _knew_ it … Lott owes me twenty dollars!”

“Shut up! _Shut up!”_ Jack frantically tried to shove him off the bed. “God, you’re so _annoying-!”_

 _“Obviously,_ I hit a nerve!” Now half on the floor, Finch grinned.

“No-!” Jack faltered, and then stopped. Hold on. He needed an excuse, and this was – “Alright, _fine …”_ Jack exhaled, carefully intoning the sigh. “Maybe I _am_ pining a little-”

_“-Ooooh!”_

“-Well aren’t you worried about him too?!”

“…I dunno.” Finch settled down; spine flat against the floor, legs still propped up on the bed. “A bit, I guess. He’ll be fine, though. Reyes is the best of the best.”

Jack didn’t answer. He brooded, half envious of the redhead for being so blasé.

Finch remained, smirking, watching as his roommate seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. 

“I don’t mean ‘pining,’ the way you think I mean it.” At length, Jack finally glanced at him again.

“Uh huh.”

“I … I’d be the same about anyone!” Jack stared down at the pillow in his lap, kneading his hands into the fabric. “We’re pack, right? So it’s natural …”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Jack glowered at the unsubtle sarcasm. 

“So you gonna come play or not?” Finch clambered back onto his feet. “You should, you know. It’ll do you some good – take your mind off it!” He waltzed over to the doorway, “Cuz, uh … people are starting to ask me what’s up with you, and my mom always taught me not to lie, so-”

“-Fine!” Jack hissed at him. “But-”

_“-Incoming!”_

Finch nearly fell through the door as someone wrenched it open behind him. Lott and Blackburn appeared, barrelling into the room. Jack instantly scrambled onto his feet. _“Hold on-!”_

“Game’s off, some asshole smashed the pool table in half.” Oneill followed the others in, his massive frame almost filling the doorway.

“Wha-? Wait-!” Jack pressed his back flat against the wall; the room suddenly felt far too small and crowded with all five of them in there. It had never bothered him before, but now he watched in uncomfortable silence as the other men promptly set about making themselves completely at home – Lott and Blackburn on Finch’s bed, Oneill on the floor in front, and Finch back on the end of Jack’s own duvet. Panicked, Jack’s gaze roved over them all until -

“Whoa, Lott … What happened to _you?”_

Jack’s claustrophobia was momentarily knocked aside as he eyed the other man’s magnificent bloodshot eye – Lott looked like he’d been smacked squarely in the face; the wound was obviously too fresh to bruise, but the skin red and swollen from sheer blunt trauma.

“Had a little dispute.” Lott didn’t seem all that concerned.

Finch burst out laughing. “Bro, I left you for _five_ minutes-!”

“What can I say?” Lott shot him a lopsided grin. “I’m a hot-blooded man!”

“It looks pretty bad …” Jack moved closer, immediately concerned. “You should go to the med-”

“-Ah, no point! It’ll be gone by tomorrow!”

Jack grimaced. All of them had noticed how their bodies seemed to heal far quicker than normal now, but still …

“At least put some ice on it.” He reached out to poke the welt, but found his hand subtly knocked away by Blackburn.

“It’s fine, Jack,” there was an edge to the other man’s voice. “Don’t fuss.”

Jack hesitated – there was a degree of possessiveness in Blackburn’s voice that he’d never heard before; the unmistakable tone - polite but pointed - of a beta carefully warning another beta to back off. “Um …”

“Hold on a second!” Finch suddenly sat bolt upright, struck by a thought. “Is this because-?!”

“Yep.” Lott nodded.

“Oh God-!”

“He was asking for it!”

“Now I feel bad …”

Jack didn’t move. “Um …” he repeated. “What’s going on?”

“… Well,” Finch paused theatrically, _“apparently,_ someone broke into Pack 4’s floor and maced all the door handles.”

A murmur of laughter ran through the room. Jack drew in a sharp breath. Pack 4, huh? Poor Ross.

He grinned.

“Pity they didn’t do the toilet seats while they were at it.” Blackburn snickered. “Knew a guy who pulled that trick back in basic– Damn … Should’ve heard the screaming _then!”_

More appreciative laughter sounded.

“Any idea who it was?” Paranoia completely forgotten, Jack perched on the end of his bed. His eyes gleamed – he was revitalised by this sudden disclosure of drama. Ensuring Ross met some kind of humiliating comeuppance had been a fantasy of his for quite a while, so for some mysterious vigilante to have beaten him to it …

“Dunno,” Oneill shrugged. “Pack 4 are _not_ a popular bunch. Plenty of grudges against those guys, so it could’ve been anyone - any pack. Impossible to tell.”

“Means someone pinched a can of OC from storage, though …” Finch pulled a contemplative face. “Risky…”

“Wish I’d thought of it.” Blackburn shrugged. “Never liked any of that lot …”

Jack felt a twinge of unease as he looked at Lott’s eye again – his mood deflating almost as quickly as it had risen. “So … let me guess; Ross and his boys went off on the warpath, stomped down to the lounge and somehow you ended up becoming their scapegoat?”

“Well … it’s more like I popped his teeth out the back of his skull, but essentially, yeah ...” Lott cracked his knuckles happily.

More laughter. More appreciative words.

Jack hesitated.

“Who would do something _so stupid_ …?” His thoughts slipped out, not really intended for anyone else to hear. All of them knew what getting blasted with OC spray felt like; it was part of their training back in basic. At that time, naïve Jack had hardly been able to believe such an old-fashioned weapon had persevered through the ages, especially when there were so many improved and upgraded combat technologies available … but then he’d learnt. Oh boy had he learnt.

Sometimes the simplest of weapons were the most excruciating.

“’ _Stupid_ ,’ you say …?” Finch glanced at him.

“You think he’ll let this go?” A note of dread crept into Jack’s voice as he looked around, blue eyes adamantly shimmering in the dim light. “Ross will tear everyone to pieces until he finds the real culprit! Someone didn’t consider-!”

“-Aw.” Oneill shot him a patronizing grin. “You scared, huh?”

“As if!” Jack sneered at him, instantly defensive. Yes, he was scared about a lot of things right now, so having to move Ross higher up that list was the _last_ thing he needed-!

Blackburn chuckled. “Such a typical goody-two shoes!”

“Bet you were a real teacher’s pet back at school, huh?” Oneill’s gaze glinted with mirth.

“You’d better not snitch on us, Morrison.” Lott fixed him with a suddenly sharp gaze.

Jack sat back, confused again. “Why would I-?”

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you trying to get in Reyes’ good books!”

“He’s trying to be the star pupil!” Blackburn grinned.

Jack rolled his eyes. “At least _try_ to come up with something a little more original-?”

“Prove it.” Oneill’s grin took on a suddenly wicked edge.

“H-Huh?”

“Yeah, let’s get that golden reputation tarnished up a little-!”

_“Guys …”_

“He _is_ scared-!”

“I’m not-!”

“You know what? I’m gonna trust him.” Finch suddenly stood up. “We’re pack. He wouldn’t rat us out. He’s got … morals ‘n shit.”

Jack watched in astonished silence as his roommate strode back over to his side of the room. Finch started digging through the laundry basket, pulling out piles of crumpled up clothes, carefully rooting around until he appeared to unearth what he wanted – and then, there - Jack groaned; there was no mistaking the cylindrical shape that bounced down onto the duvet right beside Lott - the bright red and black labelling gave it away instantly.

_“Finch-!”_

An eruption of astonishment ran through the room. Oneill leapt up and slapped Finch on the back. Lott and Blackburn had evidently already suspected it, but they too howled with laughter at the confirmation. Only Jack struggled to see the funny side. Part of him was genuinely amused, but the other half –

“We are _so_ dead!” He shook his head, mouth agape. “You _have_ to get rid of that! Go put it back-!”

“Yeah, therein lies the problem.” Finch beamed sheepishly. “I tried, but someone’s changed the lock on the weapons store. Seems like they switch out the codes every month. So, uh … It might be a while before I get a chance …”

“Ross isn’t gonna stay quiet about this.”

“I know.”

“He’s gonna kick up a scene …” Jack ran his hands through his hair, mussing it up even more. “We need to do something-!”

“Chill out, Jackie-boy …” Oneill grasped his shoulder. “No one’s gonna know …”

“You say that, but-”

“-I thought _you_ of all people would find it funny!” Finch’s grin turned slightly sour. “Jeez …”

“It _is_ funny!” Jack choked out a laugh. “Especially knowing how we’re _all_ going to get questioned now-!”

“So what? Just give ‘em a smile!” Finch did a mock salute, “‘ _No sir, I don’t know what you’re taking about sir; never heard anything about it sir!’”_

“And that would be fine, except you’re a _terrible_ liar!” Jack paced from one corner of the room to the other. “As soon as someone asks, you’ll just … _giggle_ … and give the game away-!”

“’Giggle?’ _Me?”_ Finch pretended to look outraged. “I would nev-”

“-Give me that!” With a sharp, sudden lunge, Jack snatched the can right from Lott’s hands. “I’ll deal with it; I’ll figure something out …”

He’d snapped his desk drawer open and popped the can into the back of it before any of them could react.

“Hold on a second!” Finch started towards him. “No one’s askin-”

“-It’s too much of a risk! You’ll get caught-!” Jack planted himself firmly in front of the desk, blocking the drawer with the back of his thigh. “Unauthorized use of a weapon is a serious crime-!”

“-Yeah, but then what if _you-?”_

“-C’mon Morrison, there’s no need …” Blackburn looked as disconcerted as the rest by this unexpected act of altruism.

“I’m good at damage control …” Jack tried to sound authoritative. “Just … _trust_ me, alright? If anyone’s capable of getting away with this … it’s me. ‘Star pupil,’ remember?”

“Well, that’s true …” Finch wavered - struck by the full force of that charming grin. “He’s the only one who’s ever managed to crack a laugh out of Reyes, that’s for sure …”

“No one’s asking you to play hero, Morrison.” Only Oneill remained unconvinced – he scowled. “Making the rest of us feel like shit …”

Jack faltered. He started to say something and then stopped, looking hurt. Finally, he managed to grumble out; “I’m not playing hero! I’m protecting the pack – protecting _us!”_

Oneill’s lip curled, revealing his teeth. “Since when did you make all the decisions-?”

“Haven’t we lost enough people already?” Jack growled softly, shoulders bristling. All at once, the atmosphere in the room had completely changed. “We’re _supposed_ to look out for each other!”

“Seems more like you want to play _martyr_ to me-!”

“-Why the hell-?”

A sudden buzz on the intercom startled them all into silence.

Everyone froze.

A second passed.

_“Morrison? Finch?”_

Officer Hyde’s muffled voice droned into the room.

_“I’m coming in!”_

No one moved a muscle as the door swung back.

“Oh. You’re … You’re all in here, huh?” Hyde looked momentarily surprised.

“Evening, sir …” Finch put on an obviously fake smile. “What brings you to our humble abode at such a late hour?”

Jack fought the urge to throw something at him.

Hyde did not return the greeting. Instead, his gaze roamed over them all, face stony. “Return to your rooms.”

Without a word, Lott, Blackburn and Oneill filed out.

Hyde made sure the door was firmly shut behind them.

“I suppose you know why I’m here.”

Neither Jack nor Finch replied. Jack could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to step back, to put more space between himself and this unfamiliar alpha, but that would be far too blatant a show of weakness. Jack imagined himself rooted to the floor and squared his shoulders instead.  

“I received a call informing me of a fight down in the lounge earlier this evening – a couple of tables smashed – half of Pack 4 in the med bay …”

“Both of us have been in here all night, sir.” Finch stared down at his shoes. “Haven’t heard a thing about it.”

Jack took three shallow breaths in the silence that followed.

“Look, it’s late, so I’ll get straight to the point.” Hyde folded his arms. “A can of OC is missing from the weapons store and by now I’m sure you’ve all heard the story. Since everyone is apparently convinced of their own innocence, all recruits are to undergo a room search-”

Jack’s flinch was almost visible.

“-so let’s get this over with.”

Hyde walked over to Finch’s bed and half-heartedly flipped the covers back. He shoved the pillows to one side, and then turned his attention to the mess on top of the redhead’s desk.

Finch looked equal parts petrified and incredulous. Seriously? Of all the times – _right now-?!_ His panicked thoughts were practically audible as he stared at Jack from behind the alpha’s turned back. We’re fucked! We’re so fucked-!

Almost imperceptibly, Jack shook his head. Don’t panic.

A weird kind of calmness washed over him.

Hyde’s expression … What had he read there? Exasperation, first and foremost – the officer clearly didn’t want to be doing this; they weren’t his pack, so he was probably pretty pissed about having to shoulder the responsibility. His posture was tired, his movements so careless that clearly, his mind was elsewhere …

“It’s a real shame you got dragged out to do this, sir …” Nonchalantly, Jack forced himself to take half a step forward. His senses screamed at him, but he kept his voice neutral.

He had a plan.

Hyde grunted. He flicked the drawers of Finch’s desk open one by one, surveying the untidy contents inside each with an unimpressed frown.

“You must be so busy with your own work …” Jack tried again.

“ _’Busy?_ ’” Hyde shot Jack a bitter smile. “You wouldn’t believe it, Morrison! I’ve got three weeks’ worth of paperwork backed up from having to take you lot on, and now _this-!”_ He snarled softly, stooping to look under the bed. “As if childcare and _deskwork_ is all I’m good for …”

“Wow … three weeks, huh?” Jack softened his voice until it became gentler, more sympathetic. “I’m surprised; I can’t believe a solider of such high calibre wasn’t deployed with the others …”

“… the General has his favourites.”

“You should have been given an assistant, at least – someone to help-”

“-You’d think, huh?!” Hyde stood back up. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told them-”

“-You definitely need one.” Jack was right beside Hyde now; he reached out, slipping a hand onto the other man’s upper arm. It was a playful gesture, Jack’s fingers sinking into the thick muscle of his bicep. “Surely a body like _this_ is meant for _so_ much more …”

Hyde immediately brushed Jack off. He looked affronted, and then perturbed, when he caught sight of the way Jack looked at him – the tiniest hint of a smile dancing across his lips, shy but unmistakably inviting. Neither of them moved for half a second, then Jack tilted his head, lowering his gaze demurely.

“Yeah …” Hyde visibly swallowed. Half frowning, confliction was clear on his face.

Jack felt a thrill of confidence race down his spine. Yes! He’d still got it! He still had his charm! Gabriel’s immunity must have been a fluke, because right now, Hyde was undoubtedly wondering what on earth was going on – was he imaging the vibe Jack was creating between them – and more importantly, why the hell did he find the thought of it suddenly so enticing?!

Damn – look at those baby blue eyes – those soft lashes – such pretty pink lips -!

Finch, on some level grasping that he needed to stay silent in order for Jack’s plan to work, practically turned himself into a living statue. He didn’t move, didn’t even appear to breathe as Jack continued his act. “I won’t lie,” the omega purred softly, “I’m glad you came down here tonight. We’ve never really had a chance to talk _personally_ before …”

“Mm …” Hyde shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He blinked like he’d never taken a good look at Jack before, pressing his lips together, watching the blonde man’s every move.

“I was waiting for a chance to tell you how grateful I was.” Jack made no secret of eying the officer’s broad physique. “I really appreciate you taking our pack on. Not every man would do something so selfless …”

“Ah, it’s no big deal …” Hyde tried to laugh the praise off, but he still stood up a little taller, preening. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jack – away from that stunning smile – so attractive that it made his brain numb up; there was something almost _bewitching_ about the aura radiating from the beta in front of him …

“You know … you’re a smart kid, Morrison. Shame you didn’t get assigned to me right from the start.”

Jack laughed silkily.

“You’re far more impressive than anyone in my own pack, that’s for sure.” Hyde lowered his voice. “Didn’t like to mention it in front of my own boys, but … you’re really something else. Probably one of the best in this program … I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time here; it’s obvious you would never do something so stupid …”

“Well, thank god _someone_ on this program has some brains …” Knowingly, Jack merely smiled at him again.

Hyde gave him a pleased little smirk. He tilted his head. Jack knew exactly what he was doing – standing so close, the alpha had definitely noticed his scent, and Hyde was now carefully filing it away into his memory, probably to puzzle over at a later time when the fog of flattery had cleared from his brain.

So be it.

Jack resigned himself fully to the dangerous situation. What else could he do? It was too late now. Being an omega was _not_ a weakness … Jack felt he had no reason to be ashamed. Not when his nature could be so easily fashioned into a defence like this; it was the army’s fault for being so bigoted, for not allowing themselves to consider how they could harness this different kind of strength …

Recklessly, a blinding thought flashed though Jack’s mind – since it seemed inevitable that he was eventually going to get caught – that his entire career was probably going to crash and burn in a spectacularly dramatic fashion – he might as well make sure he made the most of it while he still could. At least he could give Finch and the others one last parting protection, so hopefully they wouldn’t turn on him _too_ much when his secret was outed …

Jack’s ego was so pumped with adrenaline that he found he was almost _anticipating_ it – he’d played through the scenario enough times in his head; lapping up the shock, the disbelief … It almost seemed _worth_ it, in a crazy sort of way, because getting caught meant he’d finally become able to fully bask in his achievements.

“You know,” Jack caught his lip between his teeth, voice soft, so honeyed. “Maybe I could … come help you sort some of that paperwork out sometime? If you wanted … It’d be the _least_ I could do …”

Hyde’s gaze dilated. His smirk grew more pronounced. “Yeah …?” He looked Jack up and down, slowly, meaningfully, voice turning decidedly more guttural. “I wouldn’t say no to that …”

It was very apparent neither of them were actually talking about paperwork.

“Great …” Jack lowered his gaze, cheeks faintly flushed, everything about him a perfect combination of seductive and coy.

Finch couldn’t contain himself any longer – he coughed, but it might have been more of a splutter of shock.

Instantly, the spell was broken.

Hyde snapped out of his trance. He pulled back from Jack sharply – somehow, the two of them had gravitated so close together that they were almost chest to chest. “So, I … uh …” He’d obviously forgotten that Finch was even there.  “I’ll, um … Yeah, I don’t think – You guys are clearly _not_ the culprits, so I’d better-” Hyde indicated the door with a flick of his wrist. “I’d better go check on the others!”

Red-faced, he stumbled out, completely ignoring Jack’s sweet call of, “See you later, sir.”

Silence fell, broken only by the faintest sound of footsteps hurrying away.

Cautiously, Jack glanced over at Finch.

Finch didn’t move. He opened his mouth, shut it, and then shook his head, blinking. Jack couldn’t help but laugh a little at the shock written all over his face.

“You …” Finch finally managed to get a word out. He ran a hand through his hair, stared at Jack, and then had to sit down. “You sneaky little-! I didn’t think you had it in you-! Jack Morrison, I am … I am _astounded!”_

“C’mon, it wasn’t-”

“-What the hell _was_ that?” Finch let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Hyde’s _married_! He’s got two kids! He’s straighter than a utility pole! Holy shit Jack, when you said were good at getting yourself out of things – I never – Did you just _flirt_ your way out of that-?!”

Jack wasn’t quite sure how to respond – he felt more than a little embarrassed himself now; the ebb of adrenaline rapidly draining away, leaving in its wake a cold, empty void that rattled with the echoing memories of what he’d set himself up for …

“God …” Finch shook his head. “Honestly, I think that was the scariest thing I’ve ever witnessed!”

“ _Scary_?” Jack was startled by this.

“I’m serious, dude … You … You’re _wasted_ here!” Finch continued to gawp at him as though he was some kind of wild animal. “You could have the whole world at your feet!”

Jack felt a twinge of unease.

“You’d make a terrifying politician, that’s for sure!” Finch’s tone was heavy with a fresh kind of admiration. “Life’s truly is easy for the pretty ones, huh? Can you imagine if _I’d_ tried that? He would’ve punched me in the face-!”

Jack shakily made his way back over to his own bed. An edge of panic was settling in. He’d … He’d let Hyde get far too close – the officer had definitely noticed … 

“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Finch continued to ramble on. “Seriously! How … _How-?!”_

“I don’t know. I’ve always been good at persuasion. It’s not exactly hard.” Jack fixed Finch with a deliberately sultry look, and licked his lips. “See?”

“Right, no - that’s it!” Finch bolted upright. “I’m too freaked out! I’m sleeping in Oneill’s room tonight! You are …” He strode across the room. “You are _terrifying,_ Jack Morrison! Remind me to _never_ piss you off! You’d probably have me signing over my bank details, my family home and the soul of my firstborn child-!”

He disappeared.

Jack fell backwards onto his bed, dissolving into a fit of helpless laughter.

It was only slightly hysterical.

 _“Jack?”_ Finch’s voice called through the doorway.

“What …?”

_“I … I really owe you one … for that.”_

“Don’t-”

_“-I’m serious-! You … You totally saved my ass back then. I won’t forget that, I promise.”_

“I _told_ you, I wouldn’t let you get caught …”

 _“Yeah …”_ A pause. _“I’m still sleeping in Oneill’s room tonight, though.”_

Jack didn’t answer. He laughed again, but this time it sounded distressed, almost like a sob.

What have I done? Jack flung one arm across his face, blocking out the light – it suddenly felt far too bright for his already overburdened mind. 

_What the hell have I done?_

 

 

***

 

 

A few days passed. Both the missing can and the culprit remained at large. Jack did his best to avoid making eye contact with Hyde, because he honestly wasn’t sure what else to do. Fortunately, the officer seemed to be of the same mindset – he positively blushed when they faced each other the next morning, and while Jack had panicked, grasping for something to say, Hyde had quickly turned his back, striding down the path towards the shooting range.

Jack didn’t dare spend any time in the lounge – not with Pack 4 still on the prowl, although Ross kept himself suspiciously quiet. Jack wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but a weird atmosphere felt like it was building up – it was as though pressure was trapped beneath the surface of everyone’s moods. Jack didn’t even feel comfortable relaxing around Finch anymore - the way his roommate looked at him now had definitely changed; there was a newfound respect there, but one that also carried a certain degree of wariness. Jack’s story of persuasion had become almost legendary amongst the rest of Pack 8, and although their camaraderie remained evident, whenever he was near them Jack was far from oblivious to the way the air grew thick with unspoken questions.

Questions no one seemed brave enough to ask, yet.

Finch spent a lot of time out of their room. Perhaps he now felt obliged to stop acting so obtuse, to give Jack that ‘time out’ space he so evidently craved.

No news of Gabriel’s return came.

Jack missed him more than ever – it was a constant hollow, dull ache in the centre of his chest. He was barely able to sleep, tormented constantly by unrelenting paranoia and anxiety. Jack knew he was withdrawing into himself, becoming quieter and quieter; regressing back into that cautious, uncomfortable boy who’d first enlisted. He scoffed at himself – what a fool he’d been, thinking he’d grown so much … His entire existence in this program was ridiculous; a joke buoyed along by a string of lucky chances and accidents!

In retrospect, Jack could hardly believe he’d made it this far …

If only someone had warned him about that damn sensory enhancement!

Perhaps it was still possible to resign from the program.

Jack spent his nights repeatedly considering this prospect, gazing into the darkness until his eyes slid out of focus and he started dreaming up patterns on the blank wall beside his bed. If he upped and left – demanded that they let him quit – would he still be allowed to walk out at this stage? Jack was over halfway through the program now; it would be such a waste … but maybe that was the only option he had left …

_If you leave, you’ll probably never see him again. You’ll never even get to find out if he returned._

How disappointed would Gabriel be if he finally came back, only to find out that Jack had voluntarily walked – like some kind of coward, undisciplined and weak? Even the thought was enough to make Jack’s skin burn with shame – he could imagine the look on the alpha’s face so clearly; rage, shock … Knowing Gabriel, he’d probably try to shake it off, shrug his shoulders and say nothing, turning away so no one would catch the disappointment crinkling the corners of his eyes, but he’d be hurting on the inside. He’d definitely be hurt. Jack knew he couldn’t do it; he’d never be able to forgive himself … He’d never be able to shake off the ‘What Ifs.’

No, he had to stay. At least until he knew Gabriel was safe. 

It was 4.00 am.

Jack knew this because when in sleep mode, the holoscreen opposite him displayed a small, luminescent alarm clock.

He decided to go to the bathroom for something to do.

When he returned, Finch rolled over onto his front, grumbling in his sleep _. “Jack … s’that you …?”_

Silent as a wraith, Jack padded past him and clambered back into bed. He didn’t say a word.

“You’re awake.” Finch blinked at him drowsily, face half smushed into his pillow.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I wanted to tell you earlier … s’important …” Finch’s eyes fluttered closed. “Reyes is back.”

Jack went rigid, hand still outstretched to pull his duvet up. _“What?”_

“Reyes is back.” Finch flipped onto his side. “Got in late this evening …”

Jack wasn’t sure he’d heard his roommate correctly. His voice strained out; “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“I would’ve done, but when I came back you were trying so hard to pretend to be asleep … I didn’t want to spoil your act …”

Jack made a distressed noise. _“Finch-!”_

“He’s injured.”

_“What-?”_

“I heard Reyes was injured. He was sent straight to the med bay – some of the nurses were whispering about it when I went for a walk earlier; that’s how I found out.”

A cold shiver wracked its way through Jack’s body. Injured?! _Badly-?!_

An overwhelming need to find out flooded through him.  

“He’s probably back in his quarters by now.” Finch’s voice was already slipping back into sleep.

I want to see him. Jack could hardly think straight.  _I want to see him-!_

For five long minutes, he didn’t move.

Finch snored softly.

Jack glanced at the clock again.

4.08 am.

In a few hours, they’d all be getting up anyway.

You should wait.

Jack tried to reason with himself as he slowly swung his legs over the side of his bed, digging his feet into his off-duty sneakers. It would be morning soon; there was no point disturbing Reyes at this unsociable hour … He was probably exhausted …

_I want to see him. I want to see him-!_

Jack couldn’t stop himself.

He snuck down the dark and deserted corridors, moving as stealthily as though he were on enemy ground. Reyes had private quarters in a separate wing of the barracks – Jack knew roughly where the officers lived, and so followed the dim trail of the night lights until he was faced with a corridor not unlike the one he and the Pack resided on; the only difference being the notable gap between every door, indicating that the living space behind each one was much more expansive.  

‘ _Reyes_ ,’ a small nameplate informed him, as Jack carefully checked each one.

He’d found it.

Jack stared at the unyielding metal for a long time, swaying on the spot. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then took a step back, unsettled by his own timidness.

He wanted to see Gabriel, but …

For so many reasons, Jack felt afraid.

Don’t be such a coward!

Jack gave himself a mental slap and silently pressed the intercom button.

A pause.

Nothing.

He pressed it again, wincing slightly.

Maybe Gabriel wasn’t back after all, or worse, fast asleep …

Feeling stupid for trying to disturb him – God, how selfish could he get? - Jack started to creep away, only to nearly leap out of his skin as the door was abruptly wrenched open.

_“Who the fuck-!”_

Gabriel stood there, wearing nothing but a loose black t-shirt, a pair of _very_ tight-fitting red boxers, and one hell of an almighty scowl.

Jack gasped. It was a view that took him a few seconds to comprehend, primarily because seeing the other man in the flesh after what felt like an age was oddly surreal in itself, but also because Gabriel looked so uncharacteristically casual that it momentarily stunned him. Jack had never seen the officer in civilian clothes before, never mind … loungewear, and … Damn-! … Was that a _tattoo-?!_

Jack’s eyes locked onto the ink that peeked tantalizingly out from that distracting neckline; it was low-cut enough to show off the upper part of the alpha’s pecs.

Gabriel didn’t look injured.

In fact, he was radiating strength and … pheromones …

Jack didn’t know what to say. He suddenly felt extremely out of place.

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly. He sighed, and then growled something under his breath. Jack could tell by the tone that it probably meant, _‘I should have known.’_

“You …” He managed to find his voice. “You’re back.”

“Yes, I am back, and it’s _four in the fucking morning,_ Jack-”

“-I wanted to see you-”

“-You’re gonna see me in two hours _pendejo,_ go back-”

“-I heard you were hurt.”

Gabriel stopped. He sighed loudly again, but this time there was a tone of defeat about it. He surveyed Jack – eyeing the way the other man stood there, goddamn _pouting_ at him, all dewy blue eyes and pained expression and hair still messy from sleep. Jack looked so nervous, so embarrassed … Clearly, he was already rethinking his own impulsive choices … but something about said impulsiveness struck Gabriel; it was like a low, sneaky punch to the gut. He could practically scent the loneliness - the worry radiating off Jack’s bashful form, and Gabriel found that he was utterly weak to it. 

“I’m sorry for disturbing you …” Jack’s eyes darted everywhere but up at the officer's face, shoulders slumping at the obvious rebuff his silence contained. “My mistake.”

“Stop it.” Gabriel grumbled. He rubbed at his beard and then stood back, indicating with a sharp tilt of his head that Jack was to follow him.

Jack didn’t move.

“Did you _want_ to see me or not?”  

“Y-Yes …?”

“Then quit standing around and _get in here!”_

A heavy hand grabbed Jack by front of his t-shirt, hauling him bodily forward.

Jack tumbled straight into the room, flinching as the door slammed shut behind them.

It was an office of sorts, covered – absolutely covered in paperwork. On the desk, on the chair, on the floor … It fanned out everywhere Jack cast his eye; pages and pages of what looked like mission reports, photographs, a map of an unfamiliar city –

“Keep moving!” Gabriel shoved Jack forward, propelling him through yet another doorway. “Don’t look at that – it’s classified. _Move-!”_

Jack stumbled into the next room. His eyes fell on a bed – far larger than the cots they were provided with – and tensed. “Wha-?”

“-Wait here. I need to tidy up. _Do not_ touch _anything!”_

Gabriel stomped back into his office, firmly shutting the door behind him.

Jack stood still. Through the thin wall, he could dimly hear the sounds of the other man scraping papers up off the floor– Gabriel was muttering to himself in his own language again, the words rapid and undoubtedly crude.

He’d missed that voice.

Slowly turning on the spot, Jack’s eyes flitted from one detail to another. Evidently, senior officers were allowed a lot more freedom in terms of personal décor, or perhaps Gabriel had simply chosen to do what he pleased and no one had dared to say otherwise. Black and red were clearly the alpha’s favourite colours. It was subtle, classically masculine … but also … quite gothic? Jack was more than a little surprised by that. Gabriel looked like he’d really _thought_ about this living space; even the bedsheets were black and silky-looking, with a sheen Jack instantly wanted to touch.

A whole shelf was filled with illustration books, and a stack of what looked like some kind of monthly art magazine piled up on the one below. On the table below that, there was a tin of ink pens and a sketchbook, quite battered around the edges. Without thinking, Jack reached for it -

“-I said, _don’t_ touch anything, Morrison.”

Jack’s hand snapped back as though he’d been burnt.

Gabriel stood behind him, still grumpy.

Jack struggled not to let his gaze wonder; those crimson boxer shorts were incredibly eye-catching.

“You weren’t sleeping anyway.” He tried to act nonchalant, as though standing in his senior officer’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning – with said officer looking like something out of an underwear commercial – was the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Hardly any point now.” Gabriel shrugged.

“So you’re not …” Jack flushed; his voice sounded way too nervous. “You’re _not_ hurt?”

Dark brown eyes locked with his. “I recovered.”

“But-”

“-Do I l _ook_ hurt to you?” Irritably, Gabriel spread his arms. He hadn’t meant it to look like an invitation, but Jack made a pained sound at the way his shirt pulled taunt across his chest – flattening out across the contours of his abs – He shuddered, and then suddenly Gabriel found himself with an armful of pining blonde omega. _“Jack-!”_ He stumbled back, but Jack clung on, pressing himself as close as possible, rubbing his cheek up against the other man’s neck. He was desperate to reacquaint himself with the scent of the man he’d missed so much.

_“What’s gotten into you-?”_

“-Shut up! Just … let me … _please_ …” Jack’s voice was fervent; he shivered as he nuzzled up against the crook of Gabriel’s neck, breathing in, gripping onto the other man’s shoulders tightly. Gabriel felt so warm – so strong - a literal _wall_ of muscle … but it was his scent that made Jack act like a man possessed; his scent that made Gabriel seem so undoubtedly real – alive and unhurt. Jack wanted to get as much of it as possible, to make sure it was all over him-! Now _this_ was the alpha he wanted – this was the alpha he wouldn’t mind helping out afterhours …

 _“Idiot …”_ Gabriel’s hands grasped the backs of Jack’s shoulders. His voice was gruff, but he pressed his face into the soft blonde hair that was practically threatening to smother him anyway and closed his eyes. Jack made a soft sound at the back of his throat. For a few moments, neither of them moved; they simply stood there, pressed tightly together, breathing in sync. One of Gabriel’s hands wondered up to stroke through Jack’s hair.

 _“Nn ….”_ Jack practically melted at the feeling of those warm fingers rubbing soothingly against his scalp; his muscles relaxed until he was almost completely leant against the other man. Gabriel didn’t seem to mind. He shifted his body until Jack’s fit perfectly against the lines of his own and squeezed him a little tighter. Featherlight, his lips brushed against the tip of Jack’s ear –

Jack abruptly pulled back. His cheeks were red, eyes bright and startled as though he’d suddenly regained his senses. He tried to move, to return even a sliver of space between them, but Gabriel’s arms were like steel bands, pinning him in place.

“What’s wrong?"

Jack’s eyes darted down; he huddled into himself slightly. “I-I …” He floundered for a moment, and then blurted out; “Is my scent weird to you?”

If Gabriel was surprised by such a question, it didn’t show on his face. “What?”

Jack tried to shrug. “Some of the guys said it was weird, so I …”

“You’re self-conscious about it?”

“… A little bit?” Jack awkwardly laughed – he was flushed all over now, from the tips of his ears right down to his chest. Gabriel’s fingers untangled from his hair, sliding down to rub at the base of his neck, gently working the tension out. Jack couldn’t help it; he automatically tilted his head back, mind going hazy again as he unwittingly barred his throat.  

Gabriel boldly took the opportunity to lean close and press his face there; inhaling quietly.

 _“U-Um-!”_ Jack’s heart did a little skip. He didn’t know what he was doing any more – didn’t even know why he’d been stupid enough to ask – but this – _this -!_

“It’s … somewhat unfamiliar to me.” Gabriel lifted his head. “A little hard to identify …”

Jack held himself so tightly his ribs started to hurt.

“Put it this way,” a tiny smirk curved Gabriel’s lips, “I don’t think that drug is doing it any favours.”

“I guess the enhancement serum affects everyone differently, huh?” Jack quickly tried to don one of his notorious smiles.

“Well,” Gabriel conceded, “there’s that too …”

Jack sucked in a sharp breath.

“You feel tense, _cariño …_ ”

“A-Am I …?”

Gabriel was still holding him impossibly close. Jack squirmed a little – he couldn’t be sure, but the look in the officer’s eyes was almost mocking.

_Run._

Jack fought with his mind. He knew … somewhere through the fog of relief and needy attention-seeking that had shut down most of his rational brain, that he was dangling on a precipice now, one wrong word away from falling headlong into a very dangerous trap. Gabriel was waiting for it; waiting for the tiniest slip … even a wordless reaction-

Jack tried to tell himself that it was vital he escaped – that timing was incredibly important here – but he also found that he really didn’t want to move; there was something addictive about the heat radiating from the body pressed so decisively against his. God, was he really _that_ touch-starved – that a simple embrace could make him so pliant and weak? Jack wasn’t sure his limbs would have obeyed him even if he’d tried.

He tried desperately not to think about red boxer shorts.

Especially not the ones that were now making themselves very cosy directly against the crotch of his own grey sweatpants.

It was Gabriel who shifted first – he leant back, but only far enough to allow them to comfortably look into each other’s eyes. “Jack,” his voice changed, becoming more serious, “is there something you need to tell me?”

A long silence stretched out.

Jack let his gaze dart over the other man's shoulder. “N-No, I …” He parted his lips, and then closed them, running his tongue nervously over the lower. “I …”

“If it helps,” Gabriel’s voice softened, “know that I’m not speaking as your superior right now. I’m asking you … from one packmate to another … completely off record; _tell me_ if there’s something I need to know …”

_Run!_

Jack hunched his shoulders, head tilted down, fighting every instinct that told him to flee – to bolt right out of the alpha’s arms. Was this it-?! Jack’s head spun. Was this the moment everything came crashing down-?!

“I …” His voice cracked a little. “What makes you think I need help? I never-!”

Gabriel growled softly – a warning. _“-Jack …”_

“Alright, fine! I admit it!” Jack’s head snapped up. “I stole a can of OC from the store. I don’t know how to return it without getting caught – the lock …”

He trailed off; the way Gabriel looked at him made his throat seize up.

 _“Is that it …?”_ One dark brow arched slightly.

“Yes.” Jack didn’t hesitate.

Gabriel let go of him.

“You promised-!”

Gabriel let out a long, frustrated breath. “Bring it to me – tomorrow, after hours. I’ll return it.”

“I’m … I’m not in trouble …?” Jack could hardly believe it. He’d spoken completely without thinking; it was almost as though someone else had taken control of his tongue – some lightning fast survival instinct that had been poised, ready to utter the first excuse that popped into his head.

“Do you _want_ to be in trouble?” Gabriel sounded angry. He looked angry.

“No, but-”

“-Then bring me the can tomorrow, and you won’t be.”

An awkward pause followed. Gabriel pointedly turned away. Despite his mortification, Jack couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the curve of his butt and those amazingly brawny thighs. Was now a good moment to excuse himself-? Jack hadn’t failed to notice how tired the alpha looked; there were dark, bruise-like imprints below his eyes.

All around them, the air was heavy with dissatisfied tension.  

“Should … Should I go now …?”

“If you find me that boring, then sure ...”

“No, I …” Jack couldn’t tell if Gabriel was teasing or not. “It's just, you … You look beat …”

“Thanks.” Gabriel snorted. 

“No, I mean-! Agh!” Jack huffed out a faint laugh. “You _know_ what I mean!”

Gabriel smiled slightly; Jack relaxed if only fractionally.

He struggled to find something else to say.

“I don’t suppose … you can tell me where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing …”

It wasn’t even a question, but Gabriel answered anyway.  

“No.”

Jack sighed in quiet acceptance. Gabriel relaxed as he realized Jack wasn't going to press the issue. Some kind of wordless understanding passed between them; it was fine if Jack stayed, so long as they didn’t stray onto certain topics, because then there’d probably be another verbal sparring match which neither of them had the energy for tonight.

“I can’t wait to graduate into the official squad.” Jack’s mind was wondering again.

“Why …?”

“Because then I can work alongside you – as an equal!” His voice was so earnest, intentions so unbearably pure that Gabriel nearly lost it then – Was this man even _real-?!_ How could he say such heartfelt things so unashamedly-?

“I won’t ever have to go through the hell of not knowing if you’re alive or not!” Jack’s eyes screwed up. “It’s torture! I don’t know if I can go through that again-!”

“Don’t be a fool, Jackie.” Gabriel laughed quietly at that, a touch bitter. “We’re going to be separated more often than not.”

“At least if I had my own orders, it’d be better than being stuck here – waiting – _helpless -!”_  

“You ...” For the first time, Gabriel struggled to get his words out. “Stop … Just _stop_ being so honest – for once – _dios mio_ Jack …” He growled, folding and then unfolding his arms as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Don’t get so attached to me! It’s not good for either of us!”

“… Could say the same to you.” Unperturbed, Jack gave him a searing look, “but it’s kind of too late, isn’t it?” 

Tension crackled again.

Boldly, Jack closed the space between them. He reached out; hand ghosting over the broad chest in front of him, tugging at the loose hemline of the alpha’s t-shirt. “Show me your tattoo.”

“It’s nothing special.”

Jack tugged a little harder. “I want to see.”

Gabriel made a disgruntled sound, but he stepped back all the same, dragging his t-shirt over his head in one smooth, fluid motion. He flung it behind Jack, letting it land somewhere on the bed.

_“Fuck…”_

Jack didn’t bother to hide his unabashed interest; he let his gaze rove freely over the vision before him. Gabriel stood a little taller, shoulders back, showing himself off with a confident smirk.

“What do you think?”

Jack didn’t know where to put his eyes; he’d truly meant to admire the other man’s ink, but there was too much of Gabriel to appreciate first; too much sculpted muscle and gorgeous brown skin and that extremely distracting, mouth-wateringly _generous_ shape filling out the front of his boxers …

Jack realized he’d been staring way too hard, and snapped his eyes back up. “I, uh …”

Gabriel laughed, low and sultry. He looked so pleased, so assured, standing there in nothing but such indecently-fitting underwear … Jack half wondered if he fallen into a startlingly vivid wet dream.

“You …” He tried to focus on the tattoo – it covered most of the upper portion of Gabriel’s chest. “You like skulls, huh?”

“It’s not a skull, it’s an owl.”

“Oh …”

“I designed it myself.”

 _“Really?”_ Now that _did_ snap Jack’s attention back into sharp focus. It started to make sense; the art magazines, the décor, the sketchbook …  

“Been drawing on anything I could get my hands on since I was about three.” Gabriel shrugged. “Mix that with being an embarrassingly goth teen-”

“-You? A _goth-?”_ Jack choked on a laugh.

“Prior to my metal phase-”

“-Oh my god, please tell me you have photos-!”

“Depends.” Gabriel grinned. “What’s it worth, Morrison?”

Anything you want-! Jack _almost_ said it, but his surprise was too extreme, his thoughts already racing ahead. “I … I had no idea! You never – No one would ever guess _you’re_ into art, or all this gothic stuff … and you’re so _good_ at it, too-!”

Gabriel’s grin turned almost sheepish – being next to naked didn’t embarrass him at all, but getting praised for his creative talents? Maybe it was the soft light filtering through the red lampshade nearby, but Jack could’ve sworn Gabriel’s cheeks look a little ruddier than usual.  

“Seriously!” He looked back at the alpha’s tattoo – it was such an intricate, professional design …  

“I was planning to get more, the next time I get leave …” Gabriel subtly flexed, showing himself off.

“Like what?” Jack was utterly enraptured.

“Wanted to start a sleeve, not sure yet …”

“A sleeve would look so sexy …”

Jack said it without thinking, and then caught himself. “Why an owl, though?” He quickly went on, ignoring the carnivorous look Gabriel gave him. “It’s so … creepy-looking …”

“It’s from an old folk story … one I’m too _beat_ to explain it right now.”

Jack didn’t realize his hand was trembling until he lifted it, hesitated, and then stopped. “… Can I?”

Gabriel paused. He didn’t answer; he just reached out and curled his hand behind Jack’s own, pushing it against his chest, trapping it there in silent encouragement. Jack sucked in a breath at the warmth that blossomed beneath his palm; the feel of the other man’s skin … so soft, but so solid beneath, with the faintest dusting of hair … He twitched his fingers, stroking over the lines of that dark tattoo.

Gabriel’s pulse throbbed beneath his hand. Jack was about to comment on it, but then the fingers covering his own added a little pressure and gently, ever-so gently began to guide his hand slowly downwards. Jack let his lips part as his palm slid over taunt, perfectly wrought abs that quivered beneath his touch. Was he dreaming it – or was Gabriel just as touch-starved as he was-?!

Jack looked up, heat blooming through him at the hungry look on Gabriel’s face – the alpha’s pupils were dilated so wide he could hardly see the ring of brown encompassing them.

“Were you lonely,” Gabriel murmured, “without me?”

Jack swallowed. He couldn’t think. He wanted – Oh God – His fingers absently slid lower, brushing against the trail of soft hair between alpha’s belly button and the waistband of his underwear. “I-I- …” Startled, Jack pulled his hand away. He didn’t know where to look. He wanted to put his hand right back where it had been.

“I wasn’t lonely …” Jack caught his lip between his teeth.

 _“Liar.”_ Gabriel’s darkly amused voice hissed against his skin. “You think you’re such a clever little liar, Morrison.” 

Jack couldn’t answer; he feared the way Gabriel said that, the many layers behind such an allegation.

“You thought about me every day,” the alpha softly accused. “I know it.”

Jack shivered.

Gabriel returned to press his face against Jack’s neck, nosing along the edge of his hairline. “I thought about you too,” he admitted softly, far more easily than Jack would have ever anticipated, “about how frustrated you make me … about how much I want to _show you_ how frustrated you make me … all these long months ... the way you've been driving me _crazy_ ...”

_Give in._

Jack’s body begged him. He was almost overcome; so intensely, achingly exhausted of having to deny everything – of having to keep up such an intense level of vigilance and self-control every waking moment of his day. Let Gabriel do whatever he wants to you, Jack’s mind pleaded with him. Just give up – give in! Hasn’t this gone on for long enough now?! Maybe things will be different this time - with him-! Maybe he won't treat you like dirt-!

 _"S-Show me ..."_ Jack felt like he wanted to claw off his own skin.

For once in his life, why couldn’t he just enjoy what he was – what his body could do-?! Why couldn't he achieve his goal _and_ be an omega all at the same time?!

As though reading the pleas from his mind, warm lips pressed against his neck. Jack gasped, hands automatically grabbing onto Gabriel’s shoulders. _Shit-!_ Gabriel’s mouth felt so hot … His beard tickled … Jack squirmed. He wanted to move. He didn’t want to move. Gabriel kissed a soft path along the side of his throat - once, twice, three times …

Jack dug his nails into the other man’s arms. He felt Gabriel grin against his skin, felt the light graze of his teeth over the softest part of his neck – that sweet little spot right beneath the curve where his jaw began. A husky voice purred soft Spanish suggestions against the fragile shell of his ear – Jack didn’t have a clue what any of it meant, but he could tell by the way the tone instinctively made his thighs squeeze together that Gabriel was teasing him lewdly, probably far more descriptively than he ever would have ever dared to in English. His tongue rolled over the words like they were the most beautiful melody – but whatever it meant, it sounded _filthy._

“ _G-Gabri- …”_ Jack wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. “ _Gabriel …!”_  

As though hearing his name from Jack’s lips touched some deep, carefully controlled part of him, Gabriel shuddered. His composure cracked and he switched back to English – mouthing the words against the fluttering pulse point on Jack’s neck. “You know how often I’ve tried to think of ways to get you on your own again – ever since that day? How many times I considered just _ordering_ you to come here-?”

“W-Wait-!” Jack’s arms coiled around the alpha’s shoulders. “Gabriel-!” He gasped – and then – was that-? Did he just _moan?_ – as Gabriel went right back to that sweet little spot on his neck. He pressed his mouth over it, suckling, warming it with his tongue –

 _“Whoa-!”_ Jack bolted out of his arms. He clapped one hand to his neck, feeling the damp, tingling patch of skin. His body wracked with shivers, overstimulated – the enhancements; it was too much! Jack panted for breath, flustered that such a thing could make his entire body feel like it was melting …

Gabriel grinned at him, unrepentant.

“You like it.”

It wasn’t a question, nor much of a taunt. Just a fact that both of them knew was indisputable.

Gabriel tilted his head, licked his lips and looked Jack straight in the eye.

_“Come here.”_

Jack’s knees nearly buckled – the _command_ in that deep, husky voice …

“I …” He swayed on the spot, eyes darting from Gabriel’s face to the floor and then back again. “I don’t think … this is a good idea …”

“If you didn’t come here for help, you obviously came here for something else.”

Gabriel reached down – and Jack’s knees nearly buckled again – because the other man cupped a hand over the front of his boxers and _adjusted himself_ so provocatively that Jack felt like he was about to combust.

“Come get what you want, Jack …” Gabriel crooned the command softly this time, idly running his fingertips over that thick shape.

Jack panted again, utterly torn. His body ached – not in a normal way, but somewhere deep on the inside; throbbing with a need that was almost overpowering - there was ordinary lust, and then there was _this._ Jack’s skin felt feverish, his clothes totally unnecessary … His eyes darted from Gabriel to the bed, and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from throwing himself face down on it, thighs trembling with the impulse to spread. A particularly intimate, private part of Jack’s body that he hadn’t allowed himself to touch or even consider for a very, _very_ long time suddenly felt hyper-aware and in very much need of some attention …

“Don’t go all shy on me now …”

Jack didn’t move.

“You think you can play innocent? Rubbing yourself all over me, pulling me out of my clothes-”

“I didn’t-!” Panicked, Jack tried to deny it.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t have the guts to actually do anything!” Gabriel grinned.

Sweating, Jack tried to back off. “Don’t laugh at me-!”

“You’re just a flirt-” Gabriel deliberately crowded into his space.

“-I’m not-”

“You enjoy the chase more than the end result, huh?” His beard brushed against Jack’s cheek. “ _Cocktease …”_

“You’re wrong!” Jack shied away, unnerved by how much getting called that turned him on. “I didn’t-! I didn’t come here for _that!”_

Gabriel laughed even more.

“I’m serious!” Feeling vaguely insulted now, Jack scowled. “I’m not that kind of man!”

“So what _were_ you expecting?” Still chuckling, Gabriel passed a hand over his eyes tiredly.

“Not this-!” Jack straightened his back. Indignation tore down his shields; “I came here because I was worried about you – I heard you were injured and I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I wanted to see you so badly, and – and, I _did_ miss you, alright? I _really_ fucking missed you …”

His voice came out raw, a little broken from stress.

Gabriel growled, but it sounded more like a groan. Oh Jack, _why …?_

He couldn’t cope with it – for many reasons, Gabriel couldn’t handle that kind of blunt, unfiltered honesty right now.  It was the last thing he needed; to get caught up in all the unspoken implications such a confession held. Gabriel had never truly believed Jack was serious – never would have encouraged him if he’d thought that was the case – but when Jack blurted out things like that …

Wordlessly, the alpha turned away, and this time it felt like a barrier between them.

A long silence dragged out.

Jack didn’t know what to say.

He fidgeted, but when Gabriel didn’t turn around; he knew it was time to leave. He wordlessly edged towards the door –

“Wait.” Gabriel picked up something from the edge of his bed. “Here.”

He tossed it at Jack.

It was the t-shirt he’d pulled off earlier – the black one.

“Put it over your pillow. Maybe it will help you sleep – stop you from breaking my door down at some godforsaken hour next time.”

Jack curled his hands into the soft fabric, mouth parting with indignation – the look in Gabriel’s eyes was so provocatively scornful that it instantly riled his nerves up – but he couldn’t. Jack was equally drained; far too emotionally worn-out to snap anything back. He swayed on the spot, so many impertinences dancing on the tip of his tongue, but even as he imagined himself balling the t-shirt up and throwing it back at Gabriel, his fingers only tightened possessively around the gift.

“Unless you’d prefer something with more scent-” Gabriel hooked a finger into the waistband of his boxers meaningfully.

 _“Absolutely not!”_ Jack bolted – he fled with the alpha’s teasing laughter still ringing in his ears, completely shaken to the core.

Jack raced down the corridors, desperate to get back to the relative safety of his own room. He’d thought _he_ was the one who could twist and turn and dance around others, ensnaring them in a web, playing off their innermost secrets, but this …

Just who had been leading that game?!  

Head still reeling with all that had occurred, it was only when Jack pulled open the door to his own room and came face to face with Finch – very much awake - that he realized something.

He was still holding the t-shirt.

“Ah …” Jack tried to grin. “I can explain …?”

_Shit._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jack … the truth is coming for your ass. I mean so is Gabe, but still …. the truth isn’t far behind!! 
> 
> In case you didn’t notice, I’m total trash for Edgy Artist Gabe, as well as Young Goth Gabe. He’s probably struggled a lot with the army trying to stamp the individuality out of him. I wonder what’s in that sketchbook? Anyway, I’m sure he constantly doodles all over important documents during boring meetings and doesn’t give a flying fuck if anyone notices. 
> 
> Upcoming: LOL good luck my boy coz ur gonna need it!!! 
> 
> (Also - this is why illegal drugs are bad, kids + Gabe u petty lil shit ur enjoying yourself way too much let’s calm this absolute mess down with a serious moral dilemma.)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this, plz be kind and patient with ur Auntie Bambifawn OK the Christmas season is a rough one for me but I’ll keep on working hard!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually cranks it up a notch*
> 
> Added Note: I have been informed that Jack's battle with his omeganess can be upsetting for those with various body image / body dysmorphia struggles and the last thing I want to do is give someone an unexpected upset, so I would like this note to serve as fair warning that while fantasy, the themes explored within this fic can resonate with real life issues and thus be uncomfortable for some. I hesitate to start dictating who should and should not read, so please proceed at your own discretion.  
> My apologies for not adding this note sooner.

 

When Jack imagined sneaking through the barracks afterhours to return that stolen can of OC, he found himself dreaming of another encounter – the more tense and provocative, the better. Even though the sensible part of his mind scolded him about the dangers of seeking needless attention in a voice that sounded remarkably like his mother’s, Jack couldn’t help but feel giddy at the prospect of getting invited into Gabriel’s quarters again. Especially now he knew the officer was more than capable of playing him right back …

Jack felt susceptible … unprotected … _hunted._

He wanted to get caught.

He also desperately wanted to continue the chase.  

It was like a nonstop adrenaline rush – addicting, empowering, terrifying.

Finch hadn’t said much when Jack stumbled back into their room in the early hours of the morning, clutching that black t-shirt. It was extremely obvious where Jack had been. It was also extremely apparent whose t-shirt that was. Jack had been covered almost head to toe in Gabriel’s scent – and as the nature of an alpha’s meant that it masked pretty much everything it came into contact with, Jack knew he probably smelt more like their senior officer than himself in that one moment.

“I … I can explain …” He’d tried to stutter out an excuse.

“No need, buddy …” Finch’s eyes, illuminated by the shifting lights of his holoscreen, narrowed tauntingly back at him.

“It’s … It’s really not what it looks like …”

“It’s really none of my business.”

“Not gonna stop you from telling absolutely everyone though, is it?” Half serious, half not, Jack paced over to his bed and quickly shoved the t-shirt beneath his pillow. He didn’t care what Finch thought about that; he didn’t dare leave it anywhere else.

“As if I would do such a thing to my Guardian Angel-!”

_“Oh god-!”_

“My Saviour-! My Saint-!”

_“Shut up!”_

With a roll of his eyes, Jack slumped down onto his bed.

“What would I do without you making life here so amusing?” Finch cackled gleefully. “Honestly Jackie, this shit’s better than high school!”

Jack groaned.

“Can’t wait to see how the love triangle plays out-”

_“-What triangle?!”_

“-Our glorious Golden Boy, torn between two prime alpha males-!” Finch’s eyes shone. “I wonder if Reyes is the jealous type? He looks like the jealous type. Hyde’s-”

Panic welled up within Jack. He’d almost forgotten-!

 _“-Nothing_ is going on with me and Hyde!” Jack hissed out a furious retort, whispering as though he was afraid Gabriel might be lurking somewhere nearby. “Don’t you _dare_ start any rumours about that!”

“I wasn’t the one who started anything.” Finch’s expression was so pointed his brows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“He hasn’t come near me since that night – I completely freaked him out-!”

“He’s probably biding his time – working out his _seduction_ plan …”

_“Stop. It.”_

Jack put his head in his hands.

He knew Finch was only winding him up, but what if there was a smattering of reality behind the teasing? It was true that Hyde still looked at him strangely – studying him, whenever he thought Jack wasn’t paying attention …

If Gabriel noticed … If Gabriel found out-!

Jack felt inordinately guilty – almost like he’d cheated.

It was ridiculous-!

He and Gabriel weren’t pursing anything serious …

Both of them were fully aware of that.

For all Jack knew, the alpha could easily have his own set of love interests hidden away somewhere amongst the other packs. It wouldn’t have surprised Jack – no matter how much the thought tightened his chest – Gabriel being both as gorgeous and as influential as he was kind of made it a given that he wasn’t the only one who’d made a pass at the officer. Whether or not Gabriel had ever responded to anyone else … Jack didn’t want to dwell too much on that.

Still, the thought that his charms might be working their slow magic on completely the wrong man made Jack feel horribly uneasy. Hyde had gotten close enough to acknowledge his scent, and he wasn’t pack, so he definitely wouldn’t have the same sense of tact or loyalty which seemed to be keeping the others from calling him out on it for now.

Perhaps Finch was right; perhaps Hyde simply _was_ waiting for an opportune moment …

Yet another thing to add to the worry list!

“I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed about it. It’s not as though you’re the only one who’s been having a bit of night-time fun.” Finch looked smug, like he knew something Jack did not.

“Huh …?” Slowly, Jack raised his head.

“Well, let’s see … First off, Oneill’s been banging some cute beta girl – one of the lab technicians. Accidentally knocked her over in a corridor – now he sneaks out to the civilian residences a couple of times a week …”

“…Really?” Jack had no idea.

“Uh huh … and then, _of course,_ there’s our dear little Lottie and Burnie …” Finch chuckled. “Put it this way, there’s a reason those two have been spending so much time cooped up in their own room.”

Jack paused. He remembered the way Blackburn had pushed his hand away from Lott’s face. So it _was_ true; those two … Now that Jack thought about it; they had appeared far closer than normal for quite some time.

“Oh,” he mumbled, not quite sure what else to say. “I didn’t know.”

It wasn’t that relationships, physical or otherwise, were exactly forbidden on base. Certainly, they were frowned upon, but it stood to reason that with so many people on virtual lockdown in a top secret military facility, eventually a large portion of them were going to become either bored, lonely or both and start hopping in and out of each other’s beds. What bothered Jack was that he – the one who normally prided himself on being so perceptive; able to read people like an open book – had completely failed to notice any of this.

He’d gotten too wrapped up in his own head recently … Was there anything _else_ Jack had completely neglected to see? He wasn’t sure, and Jack didn’t like that.

“I could go on,” Finch waved a lazy hand. “Pack 2’s officer-”

“-You’re really smart at finding things out, aren’t you?” Abruptly, Jack sat forward.

“Well,” Finch looked pleased again. “I don’t know about that. I get lucky, y’know? I take a walk, happen to be in the right place to overhear something; a whisper here, a whisper there … Not to mention I’ve got ears like a wolf, now …”

“So that’s why you spend so much time roaming the base afterhours, huh?” Jack grinned at him. “You’re a _spy!”_

“I’d prefer to call it ‘reconnaissance-’”

“-I bet you’ve uncovered some interesting things.” Jack fixed him with a piercing look. “Way more than just who’s fucking who, right?”

Just as Finch had been shocked by Jack’s unexpected talents for persuasive charm, Jack now found he was more than a little unnerved to realize that his easy-going, goofy roommate was actually quietly gathering intellect at all times.

“I might have.” Finch playfully narrowed his eyes. “Who knows.”

Jack weighted his options.

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“For you, my buddy, my bro-!” Finch leant back on his hands. “It depends.”

“You seem to know everything that’s going on around here …”

“I know a lot of secrets I shouldn’t, that’s for sure …”

“Can you find out where Ga-” Jack caught himself – “where Reyes went? What he was doing when they sent him away?”

Finch’s smile faltered. “Jack,” he sat forward, suddenly serious, “that’s a different kind of info.”

“I bet you could find out! I’m _sure_ you could …”

Finch frowned slightly. “Don’t try any of those flirty-dirty tricks on me!”

“I’m not!” Indigently, Jack laughed – if he had been giving Finch a certain look, he was entirely unaware of it. _“C’mon,_ I’m sure you could uncover something …”

“Why do you want to know?” Finch’s frown deepened. “Just ask him-!”

“-He’d never tell.”

A pause.

“Aren’t you curious?” Jack wondered if it had been a mistake to ask. “Whatever Reyes was doing, he got hurt! _Something_ happened-!”

“You’re the closest one to him, Jackie …” Finch hesitated. “If he won’t tell you, I doubt I’d ever catch him talking to anyone else. I don’t even know if Reyes _has_ friends here. I’ve never seen him socialize with anyone … I don’t even know if he goes anywhere besides his own place afterhours …”

“I’m not asking you to stalk him!” Jack quickly shook his head. “What about the other officers – the ones who got deployed too? Surely there must be someone whispering in a corner, somewhere … If anyone could find out, it’d be you! You were the only one who heard about Reyes getting sent to the med bay, after all …”

“Yeah, but that was only because the nurses were giggling about how he refused to cooperate with their check and stormed out wearing nothing but his underwear – went marching off back to his own quarters like he didn’t give a fuck!” Finch grimaced, reluctant to admit that he knew this.

Jack was distracted by a heady vision of those red boxer shorts all over again. Dammit! He screwed his eyes shut, attempting to banish the searing imprint from his mind-!

Finch considered for a moment. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to start messing with official shit like that. I don’t wanna piss the higher-ups off …”

“You were happy enough to steal a weapon …” Jack tartly pointed out, as he snapped his eyes open again. “I’d call that some pretty _hefty_ ‘messing’ with official shit.”

“And now I’m a reformed man.” Finch’s voice was halfway between strained and amused. “I dunno, Jack … It’s risky. I’ll keep an ear out, alright? But I can’t promise anything …”

“I’d appreciate it.” Jack graced him with a glowing smile.

Finch chuckled slightly. “I’ll tell ya one thing, though.”

“What?” Jack waited.

“You need to be careful.”

“…Why?”

“You’re being watched.”

Jack chilled. Finch wasn’t smiling anymore.

“We’re _all_ being watched-”

Finch shook his head. “Haven’t you noticed the way the doctors pay extra attention to you? When we get our treatments, they’re _always_ hovering around your chair. When we train, they’re _always_ floating around somewhere in the distance, observing you-”

“-Observing _all_ of us-”

“-Mostly you.”

“You don’t know that-”

“-I _do_ know that!” A suddenly intense look came into Finch’s normally easy-going green eyes. “I can _hear_ them; Jack … ’76 this,’ ’76 that,’ … You’ve caught their attention way more than anyone else, and I’m not sure it’s for a good reason, either.”

Jack looked away, worrying at his lower lip. He couldn’t deny that Finch was right to a certain extent – the scientists _did_ always seem to be there. Jack had grown so accustomed to the sight of them that he’d almost stopped registering their presence at all; the researchers rarely spoke, rarely interreacted with anyone apart from each other. Even the ones whose faces Jack had come to recognize over the past few months could look him dead in the eye and not show a flicker of emotion.

At first, it had bothered Jack, offended him even … but gradually he’d started tuning them out, mostly as a bitter response to their apparent inability to regard their test subjects as anything but empty vessels. It was dehumanizing, to have them so plainly refuse to even learn their names … It made Jack feel like a mouse in a lab cage; important but also indispensable, his physical body far more valuable than his identity.

As an omega, it wasn’t something Jack was unfamiliar with; it was the same old spin under a new guise, so that was exactly why he hadn’t spent too long getting exasperated about it. Other things had gradually distracted Jack more, until eventually he’d begun to ignore the way the doctors glided around the base, always in twos or threes, silent and spectral, like white-coated ghosts. He’d never bothered to look at any of them for a long time, nor see where they were looking in return …

In hindsight, Jack thought, that might have been a mistake.

“It’s because I’m such a success!” He quickly pasted on a smile. “You heard what Hyde said – I’m one of the best men in this program! _Obviously,_ I’ve caught their eye-”

Finch shook his head slightly. “Jack-”

“-I guess they can’t believe they’re getting such good results from me, huh?” Jack wondered if he’d be able to persuade himself if he forced enough conviction into his voice. “You know … after training … I don’t even break a sweat anymore!”

Finch opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, swallowing down whatever it was he’d thought to say with a heavy sigh. Fuck it. It was too early in the morning; the sun wasn’t even up yet. “Yeah, maybe that’s it, huh …”

Jack didn’t answer. No. Both of their thoughts hung heavy in the silence between them – that’s not it at all.

“Well, since I’m awake, guess I’ll go take an early shower …” Finch shrugged.

“Yeah.” Jack watched him gather up his washbag and leave.

Anxiety felt like it was gnawing a hole in his stomach. Or maybe he was just hungry. Whatever. Jack puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. Only two months left until graduation! It was going to be alright. He’d get through this.

Distractedly, Jack ran his fingers over the crook of his inner arm, pressing down, trying to feel those two miniscule implants that kept him safe. Of course, he couldn’t feel a thing; they were too tiny … too hidden away within the depths of his pale flesh, snuggled somewhere beneath layers of thick muscle.

_I can do this._

Jack repeated the phrase over and over like a mantra, drilling it into his head.

_I’m in control!_

 

 

***

 

 

Jack would never admit that he’d put on his fanciest t-shirt to return the can. Nor would he admit that he’d checked himself out in the mirror - multiple times - to make sure that his hair wasn’t doing anything strange. He’d chosen the t-shirt specially - it had a bold print across one shoulder with a _skull._ Jack wasn’t usually one to wear such flashy things; it had been a birthday present from his sister and he’d only packed it because she’d looked so hurt when he’d ‘almost forgotten’ … but he felt Gabriel might appreciate it, might even be impressed by it. Jack had to admit, it looked good on him now – his broad shoulders really made the design pop.

Wrapping the can of mace in another t-shirt so it didn’t rattle around, Jack quickly tucked it into his gym bag. Finch had already gone out for his evening hike, so at least there was no one around to make salacious comments about ‘first date looks.’

9 PM.

Jack figured that was an appropriate enough time. Gabriel hadn’t really specified anything apart from afterhours.

He strolled through the barracks nonchalantly, looking for all the world like he was heading down to the weights room for an extra workout. Here and there Jack ran across a few others – soldiers from other packs, staff he knew by sight but not by name … but no one paid him too much attention. A quick nod, a brief greeting; Jack deliberately didn’t stop to chat.

As expected, the officers’ floor was empty. Not that it mattered much. Even if someone did spot him, it wasn’t as though they weren’t allowed to visit their officers’ afterhours; that was the whole point of the duality of Gabriel also being a pack leader … He was _supposed_ to be a figure of guidance, a moral support, a counsellor available at all times …

Jack pressed the intercom button, and waited.

He tapped his foot.

When Gabriel opened the door, he was – thankfully – fully clothed this time, in dark jeans and a khaki sweatshirt that really didn’t allow for the viewing of anything much. Certainly, there was no glimpse of any surprise body art this time.

Jack felt faintly disappointed. He wouldn’t have minded another look.

“Hm?” Gabriel grunted at him, frowning. “What?”

“I, uh …” Jack’s tongue instantly felt like it had turned to cotton wool in his mouth. “Um, I …” He clutched at the strap of his bag. “I brought it.”

“Brought what?”

“You _know_ what.” Jack shot him a withering glare. “ _The Thing.”_

“Oh.”

Gabriel could keep his voice as gruff and neutral as he liked; Jack had learnt to spot that glint of deadpan humour in the other man’s gaze a mile off.

“Give it here, then,” the alpha cocked his head.

“Ah. Yeah. Alright, hold on …” Jack fumbled with the bag. Wasn’t Gabriel going to invite him in? Jack hadn’t expected this. His suddenly sweaty fingers grappled with the zipper. God, why he was he so _nervous-?!_

Gabriel didn’t move. He leant against the doorframe, propping one elbow up. “In your own time, Morrison.”

Jack gritted his teeth – he managed to open the bag and pulled the can out, bundled up t-shirt and all. “Here.” He shoved it against the alpha’s chest.

Gabriel took it, and then withdrew back behind the door to deposit it somewhere out of sight.

“Oh-!” Jack parted his lips. He hadn’t meant for Gabriel to keep the shirt too-!

“Hm?” Gabriel returned in an instant, fixing Jack with a provoking look. Go on. Ask for it. Jack could read the smirk on those sensuous lips way too easily. _I dare you._

“I guess I’ll, uh … I’ll be going then.” Jack tried to keep his voice light. He didn’t move. He waited for the expected offer, the ‘since you’re here, why don’t you stay for a while.’ If it had been anyone else, Jack knew he would have found a way to invite himself in by now, but Gabriel’s return to aloofness had caught him off guard.

 “Alright.” Gabriel started to close the door. Mortified, Jack turned away.

“Oh, Morrison-!”

“Yeah?” Bright eyed, Jack turned back.

“Cute t-shirt.” Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Very mall goth.”

His door shut with a snap.

For a few long seconds, Jack didn’t move; he simply stood there, silently fuming. _Mall goth?!_ What was this guy – some kind of alternative fashion snob? Jack growled, and then stomped off down the hall. Fine! So Gabriel wanted to be an asshole again? He could deal with that. He wasn’t going to let it upset him!

Jack grumbled all the way back to his room. Finch was still absent. Jack was glad of it. _Mall goth, indeed-!_ He huffed under his breath, ripping the t-shirt off. He’d get the alpha back for that! If Gabriel wanted to play the ‘I’m out of your league’ game, Jack was set on reminding him _exactly_ who the best man in this program was-!

 

 

***

 

 

He got his chance the very next day, when they were down in the shooting range for target practise. One of the highlights of being a SEP recruit meant gaining access to weapons technology not yet available to the rest of the army – much like the soldiers themselves, this was usually because said weapons were either still in development, or so secret no one was meant to know of their existence yet.

Jack loved shooting practise – the sharp, acrid smell of burnt-out plasma always sent a thrill down his spine. He was especially good at handling guns, and one of the newer models they’d been allowed to try out, a pulse rifle, had really clicked with his eagle-eyed ability to strike anything that moved.

It was remarkable how the enhancements had started to affect them all in slightly different ways, too - playing off their own individual traits. Finch and his so-called wolf ears had proven him to be incredible at stealth attacks. Oneill and his gargantuan strength meant he was pretty much undefeatable during close range, but useless at trying to remain undetected. Blackburn excelled at sharpshooting, while Lott, though not always able to hit his target first time, had a knack for being just that little bit quicker on his feet.

Jack soon learnt that it was his eyes that had become his greatest strength; he could easily take out a wildly moving target, even whilst sprinting himself. It was like his mind filtered down everything into slow-motion, allowing him to see in black and white. Stripped bare, the world became clearer, and Jack found he could pinpoint an enemy’s every move, could anticipate the slightest shift in their body to know exactly what they planned to do next.

It wasn’t long before the pulse rifle became his weapon of choice. Jack treasured it like it was his baby. In turn, this endeared him to the engineers who’d created it. Occasionally, they’d take the rifle back to the development lab only to return it the next session with an upgraded spec, a new feature – Jack always enjoyed seeing what improvements they’d come up with each time, moulding the gun to fit his requirements exactly. Each time he picked it up, it seemed to fit better in his hands, and Jack would be raring to go.

Reyes trained them to hunt the AI machines that stalked through the simulated battle grounds generated by their visors - like a fully immersive video game, Pack 8 prowled their way through imaginary war-torn cities throughout the world. Sometimes, it felt so real Jack would forget where he truly was – he’d end up heart pounding, covered in sweat, feeling as though he was fighting for his very life. It they were shot out of the session, it was certainly painful enough; the AI’s used stun darts to incapacitate.

“Man, that was rough today!”

Oneill’s voice drifted over to Jack as he popped off his visor – there was a crackle through his ears, a moment of his senses realigning, and then no longer were they in the wreckage of a bombed-out town, but back in the range – a huge space large enough to be an airline hanger - surrounded by green-screened walls and replica buildings that could be slotted and unslotted like a giant jigsaw puzzle to create a new set-up each time. “You cranked those AIs up a notch again, huh Reyes?”

Gabriel didn’t answer; he grinned wickedly.

Jack rubbed at the bridge of his nose; as always a little disorientated. Gabriel had spent most of the morning pointedly ignoring him. It nagged at Jack, but he tried not to worry too much. He felt pretty sure it was everything to do with the fact Gabriel was trying to act superior, and nothing to do with him having second thoughts. At least, Jack dearly hoped that was the case, as the pack began to prepare to return the guns to the weapons store and Gabriel made no effort whatsoever to commend him for not taking a single hit.

Jack lingered behind the others on the pretence of redoing the straps on his boot. Finch shot him a quizzical look. Jack tilted his head, indicating that he wanted him to go on ahead with the others. Oh, gotcha – Finch’s expression said, as he winked and walked off, making sure to drag Oneill along with him. Lott and Blackburn had already strolled off.  

Jack hefted the pulse rifle over his shoulder. It shouldn’t have been so easy, because the gun was practically the size of his torso, but to Jack – having spent many a teenage year hefting dusty hay bales over his head – it wouldn’t have posed much of a challenge even to his former, unenhanced body. His arms had always been strong.

A snort of laughter rang through the still air. Gabriel was by the entrance, downloading the AIs’ kill stats onto his own personal holoscreen so he could pick through them later on – he’d replay all the footage until he’d found every mistake and weakness, carefully compiling it all into one neat little recap of shame to berate the pack with before the beginning of their next session.

“Subtle, Morrison.”

“What?” Feigning innocence, Jack strode over to him, swaggering a bit. “I did good today, right?”

Gabriel shot him a derisive look as he carried on working.

“I’ve told you before; that gun is far too big for you.”

“Is it?” Jack flexed his arm, hitching the rifle onto his shoulder more comfortably.

“You look like an idiot. It’s meant for someone Oneill’s size. Switch to a smaller-”

“-I like big.”

Jack said it blithely, but Gabriel turned around all the same, interest piqued. Jack couldn’t help himself; he turned his face, pressing his mouth against the side of the gun cheekily. “I know how to handle big things,” he purred, letting his lower lip drag against the gleaming metal, breath steaming it up as he fluttered his lashes half closed. _“Trust me.”_

A heartbeat passed. Jack wasn’t really trying to be seductive – right now, he’d rather make Gabriel laugh, but red flushed onto the curve of the officer’s cheekbones and he sucked on his lower lip, unabashedly attentive for half a second before he gave Jack a scathing grin. “I definitely _don't_ believe that."

“Why?” Jack’s coy look snapped into a pout. Why wasn’t this stupid alpha playing along anymore-?!

Gabriel squared up to him, voice dropping a few tones. “Because you had a chance to handle something _very_ big a few nights ago, yet you ran out the room blushing like a virgin bride-”

Jack choked. _“Shut up!”_

His eyes darted to the nearby door; he wouldn’t have put it past Finch to lurk outside.

“Shit …” Gabriel laughed softly, rapidly regaining the upper hand, “Don’t tell me Golden Boy’s _really_ a virgin, huh? Who would’ve thought it …” 

“I’m twenty-one!” Jack swallowed, cheeks burning. He wanted to back down; this had been a mistake, but there was no way Gabriel would ever let it go if he fled for a second time-!

“No shame in being a late bloomer.” Gabriel’s grin hitched up a little more.

“Well, I’m not-!”

“You so are.”

“I’m _not-!”_

“You _are-!”_

“So what?” Jack blurted out, and then froze, and then lowered his gaze. “So what if I _am,_ huh? It’s not like I haven’t done _anything_ before … Just … alphas are … You’ve got-! You’re _different_ … y’know?”

 _“Fuck,_ Jack …” Gabriel breathed out again, almost groaning, his tone full of longing. “I wasn’t gonna ram my knot in you without asking-! What kind of man do you think I am …?”

For a few seconds, neither of them moved; they eyed each other, unabashedly yearning, barely an inch apart - then Jack couldn’t stand the tension any longer - he sidestepped away. This was _not_ what he’d planned, at all. When Gabriel looked at him like that-! His entire mind shut down – and there was a deep, deep _ache_ somewhere in very lowest regions of Jack’s abdomen that really perked up at the thought of certain _unique_ aspects of alpha physiology. 

“You …” Jack paused with one hand braced against the door. He knew he shouldn’t say it; he knew he was really pushing his luck too damn far, but as always, whenever Gabriel was concerned, Jack’s sense of self-preservation evacuated his head. “You taught me how to handle this gun, so I’m pretty sure you could teach me how to handle other … big things as well.”

“Sure I could.” Gabriel walked right up to Jack’s back, lips brushing against the tip of his ear as he lingered for half a second. “But now that I’ve had a chance to think,” laughter dripped from his voice, “I’m not sure you _deserve_ that privilege yet. So go put that gun back where it belongs and stop kidding yourself, _boy scout.”_

A heavy hand patted Jack lightly on the butt – Jack nearly leapt out of his skin - then Gabriel sauntered out the range.

_“You-!”_

If Jack thought he could have gotten away with punching the man, he would have done it; the look on Gabriel’s face had been one of pure provocation, one hundred percent smug and confident. Jack clenched his jaw, annoyance shining clear in his eyes. Who the fuck did this officer think he was, tormenting him so cruelly-? 

Something had to be done-!

Jack felt like he was burning up; his body was wracked with so much desire it almost felt like he’d contracted a fever!

If I don’t get to at least _kiss_ this dumb alpha soon, I’m going to have to punch him in the mouth. Startlingly clearheaded, the thought popped into Jack’s head. I can’t stand it any longer! Either I kiss him, or I knock him the fuck out. I can’t cope with this anymore-!

 

 

***

 

 

It was late.

Finch was out.

Once again, insomnia was the only company Jack had in the darkness of his room.

He worried and fidgeted and twisted and turned, trying to settle himself down. Perhaps today’s dose of serum had done something to his nerves, because Jack felt restless and twitchy all over. He was sweating slightly, damp hair sticking to his brow.

_Don’t pull it out. Don’t touch it._

Gabriel’s t-shirt was still under his pillow.

Jack could almost _feel_ it calling to him.

Finch wasn’t there. No one would see.

All too easily, Jack gave in; he dug out the real reason he was so restless tonight, hating himself for it – hating how he knew that Gabriel knew exactly what giving him this stupid thing would tempt him to do. Jack rubbed the black fabric through his fingers, grumbling for a moment, highly frustrated. It was brushed cotton – irritatingly soft and probably overpriced – typical, he sneered, for a fashion snob …

On the pretence of examining the label – something fancy, embroidered with gold thread, Jack brought it closer to his face. _Don’t-!_ He tried to resist, but as though in a dream Jack couldn’t help it; he pressed the t-shirt over his nose, shuddering slightly as he inhaled. Jack tried to kid himself that he didn’t like the way the alpha’s scent immediately engulfed him; Gabriel must have slept in it for at least a few nights, because it was dizzyingly, _deliciously_ potent. 

 _Yours,_ his mind told him. 

Jack could feel heat rise from within his skin; there was an ache in his muscles and a tingle along the hairs at the back of his neck.

_Your alpha._

Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, Jack’s free hand was fumbling down the front of his shorts, fingers wrapped firmly around the base of his rapidly stiffening cock. He imagined Gabriel’s smirky face, the laughter in his eyes, that arrogant tilt of his head -

_Fuck you-! Idiot-! Asshole-!_

Jack chanted the words silently, matching them to the pace of his strokes.

He needed to be quick. Finch could return at any moment-! _C’mon-!_

Jack gritted his teeth, but the more he tugged at his straining arousal, the more it became apparent that his body wasn’t going to cooperate. No matter how pent-up and desperate Jack was, no matter how much it felt like his dick was about to burst – dripping precum all over his hand, he …

He couldn’t!

A growl that sounded more like a whine left Jack’s throat as he kicked his legs angrily, one foot thumping against the wall. He couldn’t do it! He couldn’t make himself come! Jack bit down on the t-shirt, dragging it through his teeth until he could practically _taste_ the alpha’s pheromones on his tongue – scent sweat and sex and hunger all over it-! He swallowed thickly, eyes fluttering shut as a vision flashed through his mind – of Gabriel wearing it … of Gabriel doing exactly the same thing Jack was doing to himself right now. Had the alpha suffered, too? Was Gabriel as tormented by the impulses of his own body-? Jack got a cruel twinge of satisfaction from hoping that was the case, from hoping that he wasn’t the only one who was awake right now, rolling his hips against the duvet as he fucked himself into his fist. He huffed out a bitter pant; willing Gabriel to be equally frustrated when he realized that the shirt _he’d_ decided to confiscate was freshly laundered – so unless the scent of detergent riled the officer up, Gabriel was set to be sorely disappointed with that prize …

Jack kept on for half a minute more, toes curling as he slid his thumb in a slow figure of eight over his glans, lips parting in a silent mewl at how intense everything felt; pressure was building, but it still wasn’t enough … He couldn’t get his body over the edge-! It was starting to become more painful than pleasurable now ...

A spasm rocked through Jack without warning, heady, making his vision turn white. Jack gasped, eyes snapping wide open, but it wasn’t release. It was a _demand_ from the core of his being – sweat wasn’t the only thing making his shorts cling to his butt anymore. Jack felt the unmistakable sensation of slippery wetness trickling down over his balls …

 _“-the fuck?!”_ Jack scrambled up onto one elbow. No-! No fucking way-! He tried to twist around, got his shorts halfway off, and then doubled up as a second shuddering wave rolled through him, rendering him practically spineless beneath its intensity. Jack violently kicked his shorts off, groaning - the back of them was _soaked._

It couldn’t be-!

Jack reached down and felt for himself.

Sticky. Slippery. Wet.

His neglected hole felt feverishly hot, twitching and desperate for stimulation. Jack didn’t want to, but once his hand was back there he couldn’t _stop_ touching himself, running the pad of his forefinger in slow circles right over the trembling rim. Now _this_ felt like what he’d been craving; it felt _right_.

Ashamed, Jack pressed his face back into the t-shirt, body wracked with tiny mounting shivers of pleasure. Alarm bells sprung up in the back of his mind – shrieking that this wasn’t supposed to happen; that something was wrong-! His heat suppressant was supposed to _prevent_ him from getting wet-! But Jack couldn’t think straight at all, was too busy resisting the urge to push his fingers inside. He knew there was no way he’d be able to come without doing that now – his body needed to feel stretched out, filled up … to do what it was _meant_ to do …

You want this. You need this. _Stop denying it-!_

Jack fought to ignore the desperate pleas of his own instincts.

He hadn’t-! Not for _years-!_

_He was not an omega anymore!_

With a heaving groan, Jack forced himself to get up, stumbling right out of bed and into the bathroom – there was no way he was going to lie there and get caught knuckle deep in his own ass if Finch decided to return early. Some humiliations, Jack knew he could laugh off – but that … not a chance.

Wiping his sticky hand on Gabriel’s t-shirt, Jack slumped shakily over the washbasin. He eyed his own reflection warily for a moment – hardly recognizing the look on his face; pupils blown wide, skin feverish, lips all bitten and red … He looked drugged, dizzy … needy and _weak …_

Jack screwed his eyes shut, refusing to look. _I’m not an omega. I’m not an omega-!_

Fumbling for a towel, Jack hissed as another pulse shuddered through him; ass clenching, despairing when there was nothing to squeeze around.

He was ruined! It wasn’t right-! He wasn’t meant to be like this-!

Somehow, Jack managed to rinse himself down, both the freezing water and the sheer shock of having slicked up completely spoiling his hard-on. His ass flinched with every touch - _Why was he so fucking sensitive there-?!_ \- but Jack didn’t stop to focus on any one thought for too long; his mind was a messed-up puddle. _Got to get rid of it! Got to make it stop! Pretend this never happened-! Pretend nothing’s wrong-!_

Jack washed himself, his shorts, and then himself again for good measure, until he was satisfied there wasn’t a trace of that honey-sweet, cloyingly scented slick anywhere at all. He stood back, feet cold against the tiles, feeling utterly lost. 

Was … Was this all a bad dream? A hallucination?

For one dizzying second, it almost felt like it was.

Jack numbly returned to his bed, pulling on a fresh pair of pants, Gabriel’s t-shirt banished to its realm beneath the pillows once again. He spread out like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling, eyes not focusing on a thing. Jack tried to breathe. His own pulse seemed to fill every inch of his body, until he felt like he was one giant pounding heart.

Had … Had that _really_ just happened?

Jack wriggled against the bedsheet. Nothing. No wetness, no slick.

Maybe … Maybe it was just a passing fluke. Jack locked onto that thought – god, did he need it – an excuse to grasp onto. It was biologically _impossible_ for him to slick up right now; the implant was designed to stop anything to do with him being what he truly was, heats and all.

Yet … he had.

Well, hormones were such fickle, volatile things! Jack tried to reason it out. Perhaps it was normal for the implant to fall out of sync every once in a while; to occasionally slip up as his levels spiked and dipped … Stress could royally fuck up all sorts of things internally; Jack knew that for a fact … and boy had he been through a lot of it recently. 

Ha! Jack flung an arm over his face. Who was he kidding?

It had never failed him before. Not once in the two and a half years that he’d had it – these implants were designed for long-term use, for _five_ years at least before they needed replacing … and even the sparse few times Jack had given in and jerked himself off, he’d never had any trouble before -!

He needed answers. Advice. Jack wracked his brains, but not too much, not too deeply, because a part of him desperately did _not_ want to think about what it was that he might have missed – the warning signs, the goddamn _common sense_ that his ridiculous ego had shoved to one side-!

Jack wasn’t ready to face up to that. Not yet.

He had to find something – a plan – an excuse – a _fix_ for this mess-! What would it take? More drugs? More self-discipline? Where had he gone wrong? How could he right it?

It wasn’t even safe to try and search the internet from the barracks – Jack knew all the communication systems were monitored night and day.

So go find Gabriel.

It was such an easy thought to have.

 _Confess_ to him.

_Let him help you-!_

Jack considered the idea, and then panicked again. He almost wanted to laugh. How could he possibly think that was a viable option? Like a lamb walking into a lion’s den - It would be the end of everything! What would Gabriel do – ridicule him, laugh at him, _pounce_ on him-?! Jack decided that would be the worst, the very _worst_ option at hand.

A lot of men couldn’t stand omegas – couldn’t be bothered with them; the trouble they caused, the extra care dealing with one inevitably required  …. Sure, they’d _use_ them, and holy hell did they love the _idea_ of them … but in reality? Plenty of alphas would quietly admit that they weren’t worth the time - weren’t worth the commitment once the initial bragging rights had worn off …

Jack didn’t know what type of alpha Gabriel was. It pained him to admit – but when he actually thought about it, he didn’t know much about the officer at all. Gabriel _seemed_ like a good man, beneath the sarcasm and the admittedly sometimes mean sense of humour ... Jack had finally started to get the impression that Gabriel _did_ care, that he was fond of them, proud of them even; invested in their wellbeing and success ... but what if Gabriel started to look at him differently once he found out – started to treat him like every other man Jack had known?  

Part of the reason Jack had allowed himself to fall so deeply into this game was because he _liked_ that Gabriel didn’t know. He liked that the alpha had shown an interest in him regardless of what he was … It had made Jack feel like the flirting was real – that Gabriel’s intentions were genuine … that the alpha saw him as an individual, not some exotic treat-!

If his secret came out, wouldn’t all that change? Even if Gabriel _did_ help him … even if, by some bizarre twist of luck, Jack did manage to successfully continue to hide his status from everyone else … wouldn’t letting Gabriel know destroy the sincerity of everything they’d nurtured between them?

Surreptitiously, Jack wiped his eyes. He wasn't sure. 

He didn’t want to lose Gabriel’s respect, didn’t want Gabriel to stop seeing him as ‘Jack,’ … Just ‘Jack.’

Give me a little while longer! Jack begged someone – his body, the universe, fate – _anyone-!_

Please-! Let him have a little more time here – as a beta, as the man he longed to be. He’d face up to his faults eventually! He’d shoulder all the lies in the end, but for now … Just for a little while …

Let him stay by Gabriel’s side.

Jack felt like he was twelve years old again, struck down and shaking, completely unable to comprehend what his body had done to him, how it had _betrayed_ him …

_I need help! I need help …_

He curled into a ball.

Jack hated this. He hated himself.

He got the feeling life was going to become very lonely from now on.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grouphug4Jack*  
> I'm sorry please don't be mad but we gotta get Jack through this stage OK it might get a little rough but we're all in this together!!
> 
> Incidentally, I have been informed that 2017 is the year I am no longer allowed to be a social media hermit, thus:  
> https://outtamylawn.tumblr.com/  
> Feel free to come gently harass me in-between chapters. I'm mostly there to lurk artists, but I might post the occasional drabble or two.  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I am sorry for this unusually long delay, I wasn't planning on mentioning it but since it's been almost three weeks, I feel I owe an explanation: my beloved kitty passed away two weeks ago and as a result I fell into a very dark and lonely depression which completely drained me of all motivation to write. It's only been in the past couple of days that I've felt the fog start to lift from my brain so hopefully I'm on the mend! But I was concious that a lot of people were asking me about updates so I'm sorry...
> 
> Anyway, before we start, this very cool person drew a sketch of Gabe from the last chapter and I love it so much, please check it out they are an amazing artist!!!  
> (http://none-honorleft-titty.tumblr.com/post/155535116874/i-couldnt-get-this-line-out-of-my-head-lmfao)

 

If there was one thing Jack felt he ought to be remembered for, it was his incredible acting skills. He could be hanging onto his composure by the thinnest of threads and still present himself to the outside world as though absolutely nothing was wrong – the motions were second-nature; put on a smile, force out a laugh, focus on nothing but work.

So it appeared his heat suppressant had decided to contribute to his ever-growing list of concerns. So what?

It was a blessing the army didn’t allow for much leisure time, because it meant Jack wasn’t able to ruminate for too long – the very next day, bright and early at five am, he had to buck himself up and carry on. Admittedly, he was running on auto-pilot, still struggling with the vestiges of his initial mind-numbing panicky haze, but as Jack sought to pin down the cause of his relapse, his focus sharpened with a renewed, almost maniacal energy. He’d always liked to think of himself as the capable one, the problem-solver, like one of those suave, level-headed superheroes in the comic books he treasured so much. Why should now be any different?

Jack was convinced he’d brought that ‘accident’ on all by himself – winding his poor, sex-starved body up for months, overloading his system with needs that were never once fulfilled … It was no wonder the implant had failed on him! Jack started to think himself foolish for letting his guard drop so easily - getting swept along in that entirely unnecessary torrent of _feelings._ How could he have come so close to throwing all the years he’d spent remodelling his nature away-?

In theory, it should be easy not to slipup again.  

All Jack had to do, was not do anything at all.

No teasing, no touching, no more playing games. If he didn’t wind himself up, his body would have nothing to respond to.

Problem solved!

Other possibilities nagged at the peripherals of Jack’s mind, but he firmly locked them out – wouldn’t even entertain the briefest notion. He had _two_ months left in this godforsaken program! Jack wasn’t going to allow himself to get cold feet now. He’d survived it this far … He could see it to the end. When graduation came – when that promised period of leave was granted – Jack plotted to slip back home as quietly as possible; _then_ he’d allow himself to do all the thinking he needed. He could see what was new in the world of illegal trait-supressing drugs; maybe find an upgraded implant. At the very least, he could formulate a long-term survival plan …

A week went by. Jack implemented his new tactics immediately. Gabriel continued to goad him, but tentatively – the alpha was nowhere near as brazen as he had been in those heated encounters before. It was as though he was trying to figure out where the line between them had shifted again – how far Jack could be pushed without making him bolt.

Jack was always careful to maintain a perfectly unimpressed, uninterested face during these moments. He looked bored, almost - whenever Gabriel tried to tease a reaction out of him. Sometimes the alpha would touch him – little questioning gestures; a light brush against his back, a playful ruffle of his hair … but Jack pointedly moved away each time. He never blanked Gabriel outright – being of lower rank made that impossible anyway, but Jack’s unwillingness to respond soon reasserted the stringent boundaries of their acquaintance. The message was clear; their game was over. Jack didn’t want to play anymore.

It didn’t take Gabriel long to realize he was being rejected. How could he not? His confusion was evident, but the alpha didn’t make a fuss about it. Much to Jack’s surprise, Gabriel went quiet – returned to scowling at the mere sight of him, those expressive brown eyes full of suspicion and hurt and a fair amount of anger. Jack didn’t know why he didn’t call him out on it – didn’t allow himself to consider a reason. Gabriel’s return to closed-off grouchiness made life easier for him, and so Jack chose to accept it at its most superficial level. Typical alpha; pissed off because he’d been denied sex! What more could there be to it? _Nothing-!_

A sour atmosphere prevailed. Pack 8 learnt to tread carefully around the two again. On multiple occasions, an exasperated Finch looked like he wanted to pull Jack to one side and ask, _what the hell is going on with you two now?!_ – but Jack threw so much energy into his cheerful, ‘We’re gonna graduate soon!’ act that he never quite found the nerve.   

Diverting things happened; Oneill got caught during a late-night visit to his lab technician lady friend, and while he wasn’t exactly in trouble for it – although climbing up to a third-floor window was something of a health-and-safety breach – the bitchy colleague who’d reported him kicked up enough fuss that Gabriel became obligated to give them all a brief lecture on the importance of professional conduct. As if _that_ wasn’t the most awkward five minutes of his life, Jack bitterly thought; having to listen to the officer snarl about keeping their dicks in check whilst the two of them pretended they weren’t reliving the same memories; their eyes accidentally met and Gabriel almost – _almost_ faltered mid-speech. A flashback snapped between them –  one of Jack pushed up against Gabriel’s body – of Gabriel’s warm mouth kissing his neck -

God, did it hurt.  

Jack felt like the cruellest man in the world. Gabriel couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong – Jack was desperate to tell him that he _hadn’t_ done anything wrong-! But by now it already felt like it was too late; there was a hard wedge of misunderstanding between them, and it forced them coldly apart.

C’mon, you idiot … Quit being so sappy! Jack tried to stamp on his conscience. His career was more important than a stupid flirtation – this useless crush would lead him nowhere, anyway! Jack kept on reminding himself of what had brought him to this point – his aspirations, his future-! He worked it into his head that Gabriel _was_ that kind of alpha anyway; the type Jack wouldn’t miss at all. So what did it matter if their non-relationship shattered to pieces? He wasn’t missing out! He’d dodged a bullet, no doubt-!

“I’m so bored …” Finch whined for what seemed like the hundredth time as he shifted into a more comfortable position. “Why do we have to do this? It’s only a bunch of paparazzi … Who fuckin’ cares?”

“Journalists are notorious for doing stupid things.” Opposite him, equally cramped and cold, Jack shrugged. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

For the past week or so, a certain heightened buzz had been running throughout the base – a fitting backdrop to Jack’s personal troubles. Somehow, someone on the outside had gotten wind of the government’s highly-classified SEP program. How much information they’d leaked remained unclear – but it was enough for a local news website to publish a highly speculative, mostly fabricated article. With sensational brashness, it detailed the exact location of the base and made a keen point of reminding everyone that not only was this mysterious military facility on complete lockdown from the rest of the world, but that the government resolutely refused to confirm exactly what was going on inside.

Faster than a wildfire, the story spread from state to state. It wasn’t long before every news outlet in America was trawling for answers. An official statement was quickly issued – _SEP didn’t exist – there were no artificially enhanced soldiers –_ but the idea of weird human experimentation captured the imagination of the public, and so it wasn’t long before reporters were spotted sneaking around, trying to get as close to the base as they possibly could. A couple of spy drones were shot down. Security was ramped up to insanely high levels. Of course, none of this made a scrap of difference, because despite the vehement promise of penalties there was always at least one or two plucky fools who found the idea of scoring an exclusive exposé worth _any_ risk.

It had fallen to the recruits themselves to uphold this heightened regime – as part of a ‘real life’ training exercise, the Packs were ordered to take up guard duty alongside the semi-sentient camera system which usually maintained the role.

Guard duty wasn’t fun. It meant being stuck in a watchtower somewhere along the high metal fences that kept the rest of the world out, often for hours at a time, waiting for a vehicle or a creeping figure to trigger the motion-detection sensors that ran along every inch of the foreboding metal barricade. During the several times Jack had been called up to do it, nothing had happened at all. He’d spotted a few paparazzi vans parked up in the distance through his binoculars – observed reporters staring back at him through massive black camera lenses which looked a little too much like guns for Jack’s comfort – and that was about as interesting as it’d got. Since the vans were technically stationed on the portion of the road that remained under public domain, there wasn’t much they could do to shoo them away.

Some of the vehicles stayed parked out there for days. It made Jack feel a little odd, because as much as those overly curious civilians weren’t allowed to get in, looking out at them from over the fence hit home that neither were any of the recruits allowed to go out.

Finch joked about slipping a message through the fence – persuading someone to order them a pizza – He was so sick of the SEP’s strict diet regime that he pretended he’d consider selling secrets for a couple of beers. Jack thought he might do it for some chocolate. It felt like a decade since they’d been allowed anything sugary or sweet.

Right now, they were on night duty.

Which was marginally worse – mostly because the temperature dropped, the tower had no heating, and the darkness made the impending likelihood of some intrepid idiot attempting to scale the fence all the more likely, so they had to stay extra alert.

Gabriel escorted them to their positions at the start of the shift. Jack tried to keep Finch in-between himself and the alpha at all times. Obviously, all three of them were fully aware of this less-than-subtle distancing, so Gabriel’s mood remained markedly curt, but while he watched them run through a practise of manoeuvring the cameras, his sullenness eased slightly – he huffed out a quiet laugh. “I’m not sure this a good idea.”

“Why?” Finch glanced up.

“With Morrison in here I can’t tell if this is a watchtower or a lighthouse! Bet people can spot him from _miles_ away through the windows, huh?

Stonily, Jack kept his face turned away.

“Your hair.” Ever helpful, Finch supplied the explanation with a grin. “It practically _glows_ in the dark!”

 _Shut up._ Jack shot him a glare. _Whose side are you on?_

Feigning indifference, he flicked onto another camera. “All the windows are made from privacy glass. No one can see anything.”

Half a second passed. Gabriel’s small, almost hopeful smirk melded into a scowl. “It was a joke.”

“A bad one.”

“Who shoved a stick up your ass, Morris-”

“-Well I think we’re all set here, _Officer_ Reyes.” With biting sharpness, Jack turned to face Gabriel head-on for the first time, posturing a little more defensively than he’d initially meant to. In the dimmed lights his eyes looked almost silver – detached and cold. “Don’t feel you need to stay. I’m sure you have _far_ more important things to be doing.”

Gabriel drew in a quick, audibly insulted breath. He stared Jack down for a few seconds, clearly debating whether or not to snap back. Jack braced himself – only for the alpha to give him one final dark, _seething_ look and stomp out without another word, his footsteps clanking all the way down the metal staircase.

Silence fell. Finch let out a low whistle. Jack shook off his misery and tried to focus on the task at hand.

It would have helped if there’d actually been something to do, because after a few minutes of skimming through empty cameras in strained silence, Finch cracked.

“Look, bro … I’m sorry but I really gotta ask; did you and Reyes … uh … break up or something?”

“We were _never_ together!” Jack kept his voice business-like. “I’m here to work, not mess around.”

Finch made a bewildered sound, brows raised.

“Especially not with an alpha like _him-!”_

“Wha-?”

“-I don’t want to talk about it.” Jack stopped himself from saying any more.

“Alright …” For once, Finch didn’t press the issue.

Both of them went back to work. Hours passed. Gradually, the tension lessened. Finch had a handful of funny new stories to share, and Jack was more than willing to be distracted. At first.

A night shift turned out to be a very slow-moving thing.

Jack bit back another sigh as he glanced at the clock.

4.30 am. Half an hour to go.

A blip of light flashed up on the array of screens fanned out in front of Finch – who scrambled to sit up properly as he motioned with his fingers for the activated camera to zoom in. Jack looked over – half expectant, but the other man quickly shook his head.  “Coyote. Again. Oh look, it’s got pups …”

Jack grumbled. He wasn’t much interested in wildlife – had seen enough of it growing up. His legs, restless from being cramped into a chair that really wasn’t built for someone over six foot, ached with unspent energy, but concentration continued to evade Jack – his mind felt unusually drowsy. It was vaguely irritating. For weeks, he’d spent too many nights wide awake in his bed, plagued by unrelenting insomnia … so why _now,_ on the night when Jack actually had work to do – _real_ work, not training – did he find that it took all of his mental energy not to doze off, never mind pay attention to the portion of the fence that was supposed to be under their watch-?

Finch continued to talk. He probably wasn’t expecting a reply; he’d grown used to his packmate zoning out on him again recently, but Jack cleared his throat and tried to sit up, forcing an attempt to listen. He couldn’t fall asleep - this was ridiculous -!

“Wow, what was that?” Finch switched the cameras around, green eyes bright behind the haze of the semi-translucent screens. He didn’t look even slightly tired, and that irritated Jack even more. “Is that an owl? Hey, come look at this – there’s an owl on the fence-!”

 _“Mm …”_ Jack made a vague sound. Owls and the man he’d come to associate with them were the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

“Looks like it’s got a rat or something … Ah, man-! Did you see that-? Swallowed it whole-! Gross …”

Jack’s eyes fluttered closed. As much as he liked Finch, being cooped up in a very cramped, cold room for hours on end with the redhaired beta babbling nonstop was severely testing his nerves. Jack’s mind wondered off again; Finch’s voice blurred into the background. How long were they going to have to keep this up? Would Finch be offended if he asked to switch partners every once in a while?

Jack blinked rapidly, struggling to refocus his gaze.

Why was it that every time he glanced at the clock, it didn’t seem to be moving at all-?

It was 4.45 now. It felt like it had been 4.45 for the past ten minutes.

Jack’s endurance was almost depleted.  

Finch was too busy birdwatching to notice.

Jack felt his head droop down – once – twice – he caught himself, but the third time he was so gone that he slumped, shoulders hunched forward, mind stuck in that strange state of being somewhere between sleep and alertness. It was fine, Jack reasoned sluggishly; he was still aware of what was going on.

_‘BANG! YOU’RE DEAD, MORRISON!”_

At least, he’d thought he was.

“Wha-?!” Jack startled awake, bolting upright so sharply that the back of his head smacked into the wall behind him. Gabriel’s silhouette filled the doorway – one arm outstretched, his hand shaped into a mock gun. Pointing it directly at Jack, his lips were curled up into a derisive, triumphant smirk.

“I wasn’t-!” Eyes watering, Jack struggled to regain his bearings. Gabriel had evidently climbed the stairs with extraordinary stealth-!

Finch rocked on his seat, lips pressed together as his shoulders shook with silent amusement.

 _“D e a d.”_ Purposely enunciating the word, Gabriel stepped fully into the small room. Something wicked glinted in his eyes – Jack immediately didn’t trust that look. A twist of uneasy shame knotted up his midriff as the officer tilted his head mockingly. “Sleeping whilst on duty, huh?”

“He wasn’t asleep!” Finch, to his credit, immediately tried to defend his packmate. “He was resting his eyes!”

“You know what? You’re dead too!” Gabriel rounded on him without a second’s hesitation. “Asleep or not, you didn’t hear me approach, so I’ve just shot you both!”

“Aw, _c’mon;_ that’s not-”

“-You know what that means, Finch?” Gabriel raised a hand, enforcing silence. “It means you’re a ghost now. Ghosts _cannot speak.”_

Warning heeded, Finch snapped his mouth shut.

“Should’ve known an all-nighter was too rough for a _boy scout_ to handle.” Not an ounce of sympathy lined Gabriel’s voice as he turned back to Jack. “You only care about your beauty sleep-”

“-Just because my eyes were closed doesn’t mean I wasn’t awake!” Beyond uncomfortable, Jack grappled for a semblance of an excuse. Gabriel was clearly spoiling for a fight. Jack felt up for it. He was humiliated and fed-up – with the alpha, with himself, with everything.

“Makes no difference.” Predictably, Gabriel belittled this defence with a sneer. “You didn’t hear me either.”

“You move like a panther-!”

 _“You_ weren’t paying attention.”

“I _was-!”_

“-I don’t think you were. I think your head was in the fucking clouds, Blondie!”

Jack swiftly rose to his feet, his chair screeching across the floor behind him. Gabriel accepted this wordless challenge; he tilted his chin up, brows raised expectantly.

Jack curled his hands into fists.

No. C’mon. He tensed his back. It’s not worth it. Less than two months, Jack forcefully reminded himself. Don’t fuck it up now-!

Blue eyes battled wordlessly against brown.

Gabriel was in a stubborn, unforgiving mood – Jack knew that face all too well, but this time there was something new about it; the alpha looked volatile, almost … dangerous. Jack’s inner turmoil snapped into self-preservation mode. Gathering up every ounce of his rapidly failing resolve, he smothered his pride and lowered his gaze.

“You’re right, Officer … I fell asleep. My …” Jack almost choked on the word, “apologies …”

“ _’Your apologies?_ ’ You think _that’s_ gonna cut it?”

Rather than become placated, Gabriel appeared incensed by this unexpected display of obedience. He angrily clicked his tongue, circling the room. “What happened to the smug brat who wasn’t happy unless he was top of the class?! You’re _slipping,_ Morrison! Don’t tell me you’ve already peaked-!”

“-It won’t happen again.” Jack softened his posture, tucking his head down towards his chest. Frustration grated up against the embarrassment already stinging his nerves. What more did Reyes want-?! He’d admitted it! He was offering complete submission-!

“You can do double cleaning duties this week.” Gabriel’s mouth set in a hard line.

Defiance flared in Jack’s eyes, but his lips replied, “Yes sir.”

“Let’s see …” Gabriel wasn’t finished; he stroked his beard, mock contemplating. “You talked back to me earlier, too … so let’s add another week for insubordination.”

Anger smouldered within Jack. It was fully within an officer’s right to sanction punishments, but Gabriel’s tone warned that this had very little to do with Jack being caught asleep and far more to do with provoking a reaction out of him. A _personal_ attack-!

Don’t react. Jack bit down on his tongue. Don’t give him what he wants-!

“Oh, and look … You didn’t clean your boots today.” Gabriel took a slow, provocative step closer, not even bothering to hide the taunt in his voice now. “So that’ll be another week for failing a uniform inspection.”

“I cleaned my boots this morning!” Jack’s head snapped back up, eyes narrowed, control rapidly slipping. “Not a speck of dirt on them-!”

Realization came a second too late – Jack had played right into the alpha’s hands – because Gabriel’s devious grin only widened at the quick retort. Nonchalantly, he stretched out a leg and stepped directly onto Jack’s boot, wiping the sole of his own pointedly over the top. A streak of dust smeared across it, marring the shiny metal toe.

 _“Now_ there is.” Gabriel’s eyes gleamed. “So that’ll be three weeks total.”

Jack lost it. He didn’t snap back – was too livid to force out any words – but he snarled as his arm shot up, lightning fast.

He punched Gabriel hard in the mouth.

Finch gasped. Jack froze – half horrified by what he’d done – but Gabriel took the blow with no more than a step back and a sharp turn of his head. He wiped his lip. Blood smeared onto his hand. _“Hn.”_ For half a second, Gabriel looked almost pleased.

Then he punched Jack back.

Rage had dulled Jack’s reaction speed; he ended up crashing backwards onto the desk, the holoscreens dissolving into a blur of fractal light and static as he fell through them. A vein in his nose popped, and then sure enough came the trickling feeling of blood – it dripped down over Jack’s mouth, his chin, staining his uniform with little droplets of crimson.

Jack ignored it. He leapt back up, intending to lash out again, only to find Finch waiting to seize him by the arms. “You piece of shit alpha!” Jack flailed, hardly aware of what he was saying. “You shady son of a bitch-!”

Gabriel wiped his busted lip again, lapping up the blood with a quick flash of his tongue. He laughed, clearly delighted by the sight of Jack trying to wrestle out of Finch’s hold. “Now _there’s_ the little shithead I know-!”

“-Quit messing with me!”

“Never thought the day would come when I missed one of your hissy fits-!”

“-Fuck off! I’m not a _toy!”_ Jack managed to escape Finch’s grasp, but then he caught himself – instinctively hesitating - as Gabriel dropped into a fighting stance.

“… What the hell are you talking about?” Gabriel’s smirk faltered.

“You’re pathetic!” Jack was too angry – too ashamed – too deeply buried beneath his blanket of excuses to notice the surprise in the other man’s eyes. “A fucking _knothead_ who can’t handle getting denied what he wants! Just like the rest-!”

Finch rolled his eyes upwards and sighed, beseeching the ceiling for help.  “Can I _please_ be dismissed before the lovers spat-?”

His plea went ignored.

Jack watched Gabriel carefully, chest heaving with emotion, as the officer appeared to gather his stunned thoughts. It was clear that whatever response Gabriel had expected, it wasn’t _that._ A dark look settled into his gaze – a hurt that ran so deep, Jack’s anger instantly melted into panicky, defensive guilt. He hadn’t-! He hadn’t meant-!

Seconds ticked by.

Jack tried to speak and then coughed; blood was draining down the back of his throat, coppery and raw.

“Get out.”

Gabriel’s face was a mask of wounded rage. 

 “-What?!”

“I said, _GET OUT!”_

Jack found himself grabbed by the front of his blood-stained shirt as with a roar, Gabriel hauled him bodily from the room. He reeled back against the railings as the alpha tossed him roughly onto the staircase, Gabriel’s stature towering over him as he snarled, “You’re a fucking disgrace, Morrison! Get out of my sight!”

More than a little freaked out, Jack didn’t need to be told twice.

He fled – a hasty, shameful retreat – one hand clasped over his nose as he clattered down the stairs. Rage still burned within him – _who the fuck did Gabriel think he was?!_ – but already there were cold twinges of regret spiking through Jack’s blinding fury; they stabbed at him, making him feel worse than ever. As vilified as Jack tried to pretend his was – _Of course_ he’d been right; alphas _were_ all the same! - Gabriel … that _look_ on Gabriel’s face …

Jack stomped his way back into the barracks, adopting a march so purposeful that none of the freshly-awakened recruits he strode past dared to ask what was wrong. Jack scowled into the distance, gaze fixed ahead, stoically ignoring the spectacle he created. He felt determined no one was going to witness him hang his head and slink along like a kicked dog – he was already undignified enough!

A couple of muffled laughs drifted past.

Gabriel had held back on that punch. Jack worked himself up over the fight again. He knew Gabriel could have easily broken his nose. By the standards of an artificially enhanced soldier, the punches _both_ of them had thrown might as well have been little butterfly kisses – and that thought made Jack bristle with indignation. Did Gabriel think him too frail-?! He didn’t need anyone to go easy on him! He’d fight-!

“ _Oi, Blondie-!”_

A figure loomed forward, obstructing Jack’s path. Jack skidded to an abrupt halt. Snapping his gaze back into focus, his spine pulled taunt as he recognized the blockade.

Ross.

Flanked by several of his packmates, the leering alpha stood with his arms folded, surveying the absolute mess Jack looked with unmistakably pleased eyes. His nostrils flared wide as he inhaled the unmistakable scent of blood – _approving_ of it.

“What happened to you?”

“Mind your own.” Jack glowered at him.

“Been talking shit to the wrong guy, by the looks of it.” One of the other men smirked.

 _“Move!”_ Jack squared his shoulders, hunkering down into a fighting stance.

Ross’ grin widened – Jack’s fists started to come up – but then the alpha stepped aside, leaving a space small enough for Jack to pass, provided he dared step uncomfortably close to them.

Jack wasn’t a coward; he shoved through the gap.

A meaty had patted him on the back.

_“Blood looks good on you.”_

Jack didn’t respond.

He didn’t stop walking until he was safely back in his own room and stooped over the sink, violently scrubbing at his face with freezing cold water. Jack sniffed experimentally – nothing happened, so it seemed like the burst vein had almost immediately sealed up. One small blessing, at least, but a metallic taste lingered at the back of his throat so Jack scooped up another handful of water to rinse out his mouth, half wishing he could pull out his impetuous tongue while he was at it.

Cleaned off, he slowly sank down into a crouch, one hand still clutching onto the basin for support. Ross’s ominous words were already forgotten – Jack’s mind was too consumed with the way Gabriel had thrown him so viciously from the watchtower. He’d made the officer angry countless times before, but not once had Gabriel ever looked at him like _that-!_

_“Oh God … I really fucked up-!”_

Jack sat back, slumping clumsily against the cold tiles. He’d never intended to voice those thoughts out loud – those qualms about alphas, about how people perceived him … Such private, broken judgements were the ghosts that usually haunted Jack in the early hours of the morning. Reserved for fleeting moments when his mind was an absolute mess, they certainly weren’t ever meant to be shared with anyone else – mostly because when the mood passed, Jack often realized he didn’t truly believe any of them. Not wholeheartedly, at least. Not where Gabriel was concerned. So why-?! _Why_ had he blurted all those terrible insecurities out-?

Even if he couldn’t come up with a clear answer, Jack knew he only had himself to blame. Gabriel had done nothing – Jack’s guilt constantly reminded him of that … Sure, the alpha could be an asshole at times, but then again, Jack supposed he could also equally be accused of _encouraging_ Gabriel’s derisive wit on countless occasions before.

_You did this._

Jack felt almost physically sick at the thought – that he’d willingly shredded their relationship, that as much as it hurt, it was still _better_ this way.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Jack reminded himself of why he’d had to do it.

He was an omega. His entire life here was fake.

You did what had to be done, Jack’s mind whispered to him, and he felt that it was right. He deserved Gabriel’s hatred – let the alpha think he was a stupid, bigoted prude! He was the one _lying_ – lying to everyone-! Jack laughed to himself, bitterly. As though a fraud like him would ever be in someone as incredible as Gabriel’s league! He didn’t belong here. He had no right to call himself part of the SEP, of a pack, of anything-!

Yet here I am, Jack numbly mused, about to graduate in a month and a half.

He didn’t know what to do next.

How could he narrow a rift so widely cut?

Jack almost felt like wondering off to provoke another bout with Ross – He felt like getting beaten up, he was _that_ miserable.

More than anything, Jack wanted to take that fight back. He was nothing without Gabriel. All his motivation, his drive to succeed … It had all stemmed from the needy desire to earn his officer’s praise. Gabriel was the one who had inadvertently prevented Jack from dropping out countless times. Gabriel was the one who had given him a reason to carry on. Without that … Without _him …_

Jack had never felt so alone.

He put his head in his arms and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Stifled breaths shuddered out into the air. Jack sniffed heavily again.

Was the price of achieving his life’s goal really worth the inability to ever have a genuine relationship ever again? Because that was what graduating would mean, Jack realized with startling clarity. He was going to end up locking himself into a lifetime of isolation and deceit. Oh, of course he could always pretend that he was still planning to go ahead with the 'Big Reveal' – show everyone up, make them all gasp and fume while he started a scandal the likes of which the army had never seen before …. Jack _still_ sort of wanted to do that … but now that he actually _cared_ about his packmates; cared what they thought, worried that even if somehow the SEP chose to let him stay, they’d never trust him again …

Jack honestly wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought about it before. It was Gabriel’s fault-! Gabriel had _made_ him like this-!

For the first time since entering the army - since beginning the program - lonely and shivering and feeling as though every lie had finally caught up to him, Jack gave in.

He curled into a ball and cried.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't yell at me about the sad ok I KNOW I am also very sad to the point of tears!!!  
> but I would not be doing this pairing or my ABO world any justice if we skipped over it.  
> Upcoming: Lol remember Hyde? Oops. Yo Finch is that entirely helpful? Also, apparently being an alpha has troubles all of it's own feat. a moment everyone has been waiting for ..... ?!
> 
> It Me: (https://outtamylawn.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry for the delay. Life 'n stuff.  
> Before we start, please take a look at all these wonderful artworks!!
> 
> https://outtamylawn.tumblr.com/tagged/poison+gold+art  
> (Rather than post a bunch of urls I'll just link to the tag so it's more convenient. ^^;;;)  
> I look at all these drawings on a daily basis whilst sobbing gentle tears of joy because I'm so honoured and everyone's art is so amazing and I have so many happy feels I could probably write a small essay about how wonderful each drawing is, so let me stop now before I get distracted by all the happy feels.

 

Jack supposed it was something of a blessing that a night shift meant he’d been granted the following day off, because he didn’t move from his bed for a solid nine hours. He slept deeply, too – for the first time in what felt like an age, the exhaustive mental stress no doubt overriding his insomnia for once.

It was evening by the time Jack awakened again. Bleary eyed and despondent, he glanced around. Finch’s bedcovers were rumpled and messy, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. A small tray of food was set on Jack’s bedside table. He prodded at it for a while, but the meat was cold and Jack’s stomach just wasn’t all that interested. He still felt grateful that Finch had thought to smuggle it out to him, though. For all his scatter-brained babbling, the redhaired beta could be remarkably tactful when he chose. Perhaps Finch had guessed Jack would have felt far too forlorn to face up to a communal meal had he awoken in time. He wouldn’t have been wrong.

Jack’s mind was still preoccupied with memories of his fight with Gabriel, and the resounding misery soon engulfed him so much that he was forced to set the largely untouched plate aside. He flopped over onto his back, one arm flung across his face. It was better this way. It _had_ to be this way. Jack kept on telling himself that, but his guilt wasn’t so easy to abate. He zoned out, remaining there listlessly for some time – not even bothering to react when the small status bar at the bottom of the holoscreen opposite his bed began to flash, indicating that he’d received a new communication. Green was the light of a pre-checked and pre-approved email from outside the base, so that could only mean one thing.

Sure enough, when Jack finally found enough mental energy to sit up, it turned out to be a message from the elder of his two sisters – a beta freshly graduated from university, now returned home to help out with the family business. Nothing she had to say seemed particularly exciting – or at least, none of it was interesting enough to draw Jack’s mind away from his own predicaments for long, but for a few minutes at least, he lost himself in reading the wall of text and remembering what life had been like before he’d thrown himself headlong into this mess.

Apparently his mom had taken up baking again, and his father was still out of the house most weekends playing golf. His other sister was doing pretty well, and nothing much had changed. It was so unremarkably domestic and so entirely alien compared to Jack’s current life that for half a moment he almost found himself _longing_ to be back there. In the quiet, isolated security of his family home, no one would challenge or question him, so there’d be no need to hide what he was – Jack could be himself again, could cast off all the lies …

Enlisting in the army had always felt like an escape ticket to Jack; a chance to gain independence from the smothering overprotectiveness of his family, but now … being trapped _here_ … Jack wasn’t sure which option he preferred anymore. He certainly knew what path would have been _safer,_ but then again …

Jack quickly squashed the thought. Nostalgia was playing tricks with his brain!

He’d left for a reason. He still didn’t regret that.

Skimming over most of his sister’s complaints about the family business, Jack reached the final paragraph, grumbling quietly to himself about how archaic emails were - he still didn’t get why they weren’t allowed to send pre-recorded video messages, at least – until something finally snagged his attention and held it.  

His sister commented on the recent deluge of rumours that had put SEP all over the news – she seemed to find the thought of enhanced super-soldiers funny, and playfully asked Jack if he’d heard anything about it – if he had any ‘insider’ information to share. A sharp, bitter laugh rose up in Jack’s throat as he noticed that whoever had checked the email had added a sharp, highlighted footnote of their own at the end:

_‘As per your rules of engagement, you are reminded that any disclosure of your involvement with SEP is strictly prohibited. All inbound and outbound communications from this sever are manually screened and messages may be altered or undelivered without notice if deemed to be a violation. Repeated violations will incur further penalties.’_

Guilt of a different kind flooded Jack’s soul.

He flicked the message off with a wave of his hand, slumping over backwards again. Later … He’d answer that later.

Jack was tired of lying for now.

He closed his eyes, dozing but not dozing, mind full of everything and nothing all at once. It wasn’t until he heard the tale-tell hum of the door about to be opened that Jack stirred again – he immediately dived back under his duvet.

Finch’s footsteps came to a halt at the side of the bed.

“I know you’re awake.”

Jack didn’t move.

“Get up.”

He screwed his eyes shut.

“Listen Blondie, I’m giving you fair warning-!”

Jack held his breath.

Finch paused.

“Alright.” His voice expressed a shrug. “You leave me no other choice. _Oneill!”_

Alarmed, Jack pulled the covers off his head, but it was too late – Oneill had swept both him and the duvet up like an oversized, bundled-up baby. With Jack firmly clasped in his massive arms, the alpha made a beeline for the hall.

 _“Whoa!_ What the hell-?! Put me down-!” Jack shrieked and wriggled and kicked until he was dropped roughly onto the floor. “You sonofa-! _Quit laughing-!”_

Finch was almost doubled up with mirth.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you two-?”

“Listen, buddy!” Finch tried – and failed – to sound stern. “I’m not living with a roommate who spends all his free time moping around anymore! It’s makin’ _me_ miserable! So we’re all gonna go down to the lounge tonight and play a few games and have some _fun,_ alright?”

“I’m not-!”

“You are.”

“I’m not-!”

Finch looked at Oneill, who smiled indulgently at Jack, and then moved to pick him up again.

“OK! _OK!_ Alright … _Jeez …”_ Jack scooted backwards until he was safely out of reach. He ran a hand through his ruffled-up hair, thoroughly discomforted. “I’ll go, alright …? You don’t need to carry me around …”

“You need to lighten up, Jackie-boy!” Oneill graced him with a meaningful wink as he returned to the doorway. “Company’s a good cure for a break-up!”

Pointedly ignoring that remark, Jack clambered back onto his feet. Finch didn’t move. Jack rolled his eyes and turned to the exit, at which point his roommate chuckled and made as if to follow him. “You’re up to something,” Jack softly accused, half serious, half not. “I know your ways now.”

Cat-like, Finch simply smiled. 

For once, the lounge was fairly quiet, and much to Jack’s immediate relief there was no sign of Ross or any of the other recruits from Pack 4. Lott was guarding one of the pool tables.

“Where’s Blackburn?” Jack glanced over at him as they approached.

“Sick.” Finch shrugged.

“Huh?”

“He’s not been himself since last week’s treatments.” Lott started setting up the game – he pushed a button and a hoard of glowing LED balls clattered out onto the felted green surface of the table. “Dragged him to the med bay yesterday, but they couldn’t find much wrong. Said he’d caught a cold – told him to stop being such a paranoid little shit and get an early night.”

“My girl said there was a virus goin’ around the civilian residences.” Oneill looked mildly concerned, and Jack found that in itself worrying, because Oneill wasn’t usually one for expressing any emotions other than amusement or pride. “Must’ve spread over here, too.”

“Probably because idiots like _you_ keep on sneaking out at godforsaken hours of the night and bringing back a load of filthy germs to spread around!” Lott sneered.

“Not my fault becoming a super-solider didn’t fix up your man’s immune system!” Oneill guffawed loudly.

“He’s not my-”

“-Yeah, watch you don’t catch it, Lottie!” Finch chimed in. “Since I know for a _fact_ you two have pushed the beds together-”

“-Don’t you worry ‘bout it!” Lott puffed up chest proudly. “I never get sick! Anyway, how do _you_ know about-?”

“-Shouldn’t someone keep an eye on him?” Jack wasn’t convinced.

“He’ll kick you out.” Lott shrugged. “Said he likes to be alone when he’s ill.”

“He’s not _dying!”_ Finch nudged Jack out of the way so he could pick up a cue. “He’s got a sore throat, that’s all.”

“Might not be a virus after all then, eh?” Oneill snickered.

Lott threw a ball at him.

Not wanting to seem overly fussy, Jack didn’t press the issue, but the uneasy feeling at the back of his mind lingered as they started to play – he and Finch pairing up against the other two.

It should have been fun, but Jack found it difficult to concentrate. He kept glancing furtively over his shoulders to make sure none of the other recruits were watching them, visibly tensing every time the doors on the opposite side of the lounge slid open or closed.

Who he was most afraid of seeing, Jack wasn’t sure.

Hyde was tucked into a quiet corner. Half obscured by a large potted fern, the officer looked engrossed by the game he was playing with his own men.

Jack quickly moved until his back faced them.

He still got the uncanny feeling that Hyde had been watching him only a second before, though.

_“You cheating fucker!”_

Predictably, within the first ten minutes Oneill started an argument with Finch, and then Lott had to wade in as the referee. Jack knew he should have been laughing along with them – goading and switching sides and generally talking shit – but he couldn’t find his nerve. He stood, leaning silently against the edge of the table whilst the three men bickered it out, waving their cues around as they kicked up a small ruckus.

All Jack could focus on was how much he wished they’d quieten down – the other recruits were starting to look over, to grin … It wouldn’t be long before someone got up and came over to see what was going on-!

Jack’s senses screamed at him. He wanted to go back to his room, to hide, to escape the loud, angry shouts of those who biologically outranked him-!

_“I’ll play the winner.”_

A low, familiarly accented voice nearly startled Jack out of his skin.

Gabriel stood at the opposite end of the table, head tilted with a nonchalant smile.

Such an unforeseen arrival distracted everyone entirely, and Jack was momentarily astonished, because he had no idea how Gabriel had managed to slip into the lounge without him noticing. Oneill and Lott were delighted; they quickly set about reconfiguring the table for a new game.

“So kind of you to join us!” Finch grinned.

“Figured I should bless you with my presence at least once.”

Jack curled his hands around his cue until his knuckles turned white. His heart danced at the sight of the officer, two parts mortified and one part relieved. Agitated by this flummoxing combination of emotions, he hastily turned away. It was all Jack could do to not to bolt right out of the room. Gabriel’s entrance had drawn more than a little attention to their table – most of the other men in the lounge were now glancing over, muttering amongst themselves.

Jack caught Hyde peeping through the fern at Gabriel with a pensive frown, and turned the other way with another exasperated inner shriek of panic. He didn’t know what do with himself. Gabriel was wearing _his_ t-shirt – the one he’d taken from Jack during the OC can debacle. It was nothing special; a plain, grey tee … but Jack would have recognized it anywhere. It felt like a slap in the face – a brazen taunt that could only mean one thing; Gabriel was hoping for another fight. He _never_ came to socialize with them afterhours! It was highly suspicious - Jack wasn’t sure he’d even seen Gabriel set one _foot_ in the lounge before-!

Sidling over to Finch, Jack barely moved his lips as he furiously whispered, _“Why is he here?”_

Gabriel looked so relaxed as he chatted with the other two, smirking in the most infuriatingly handsome way. He hadn’t looked even once towards Jack; didn’t even appear to notice he was there, and Jack really, really had to struggle not to _fix that_.    

Finch didn’t miss a beat. “ _Because I invited him.”_

Disbelieving, Jack shot him a look. _“You-!”_

 _“No need to thank me!”_ With an insufferable grin, Finch slung an affectionate arm around Jack’s shoulders. Jack shrugged him off. Just leave-! His panicked mind flailed for an excuse. Just say you don’t feel well and get the hell out-!

One tiny part of Jack refused to cooperate though – the sliver of his attitude that was incensed by Gabriel’s barefaced provocation; that was _his_ t-shirt, and the other man had no right to be wearing it! So Gabriel wanted another round, huh? Jack’s affronted disdain anchored him to the spot. Fine - but he certainly wasn’t going to get it tonight! Incensed and stubborn, Jack hardened his resolve. No way was he going to risk giving the alpha a chance to embarrass him in front of all these other recruits-!

On the other hand, Gabriel continued to have no apparent interest in Jack’s presence at all.

In fact, as the evening wore on, Jack started to get the impression that he was being pointedly ignored.

Gabriel was more than friendly with the others – laughing, insulting, pushing and slapping them on the back a little too much. Had he always been so tactile? Jack wasn’t convinced. Especially when he watched as the officer reached out and slid his fingers through Finch’s thick red hair – the gesture implying familiarity in a way that Jack had always previously thought was reserved _only_ for him.

Jealousy flared within him, petulant and unwelcomely irrepressible.

Jack still wanted to leave, but now, more than anything, his inner omega was getting far too crabby to give up the game. _Do something-!_ Jack struggled to rein in his thoughts. _Force him_ to acknowledge you-!

Lott, it turned out, could speak passable Spanish, and so Gabriel started to test him on it, his voice rich and amused as the shorter alpha managed to keep up a fairly coherent conversation. Oneill and Finch watched – Finch nodding along as though he fully understood.

Jack’s suspicion increased. He hated the way Gabriel smiled at them, hated the way that voice – in a language which rolled Jack’s memories back to the night when Gabriel had been purring suggestions into his ear – was now heaping what sounded like praise onto someone else. Lott’s casual entanglement with Blackburn seemed irrelevant – for one inconceivable second, Jack almost imagined he’d found a _rival._

Resentful of his own emotions, Jack looked away, not sure how much longer he could stand it. No wonder Gabriel had cracked – had _bullied_ him out of his own silent-treatment game! _It was torture!_ Once again, guilt threatened to overwhelm Jack; more than half of him felt like doing something stupidly reckless to win Gabriel’s attention back. _Now_ he knew how frustrated the alpha must have felt! It was payback!

Jack knew he fully deserved it, but still …

An elbow nudged him sharply in the ribs.

_“Talk to him.”_

It was Finch.

Jack turned away. _“I can’t.”_

 _“Try!”_ Finch prompted.

_“He doesn’t want-”_

“-He wouldn’t have agreed to come here if he didn’t!” Finch growled, and for the first-time Jack was taken aback by the aggression lining his roommate’s voice. “Dammit Jackie, stop being such a messy little shit and sort yourself out-! I’m not gonna let you ruin the dynamics of this pack just because you’re too _cowardly-!”_

 _“-Who are you calling a coward-?!”_ Jack rounded on him, fists clenched.

“Gentlemen!”

Oneill coughed loudly. He waved his cue. “One more game?”

“Nah.” Uncharacteristically dour, Finch shook his head. “You and Lott play.”

So he and Jack and Gabriel all stood to one side – albeit on opposite ends of the table – while the others continued their game.

Now Finch seemed like he didn’t want to talk to Jack either – his face was shadowed by a grouchy scowl that made Jack feel even worse each time he caught sight of it. For a while the conversation was stilted and aimless, all five of them perfectly aware of the tension but valiantly attempting to ignore it. Jack and Gabriel even ended up replying to each other once or twice during the light-hearted, forced out banter that followed – neither making eye contact as they quickly caught themselves – It was always an accident, a momentary lapse.

“Oh shit!” Mid-shot, Oneill abruptly set down his cue and clapped a hand to his face. “It’s my niece’s birthday today! I should’ve messaged her …”

“Just do it tomorrow.” Lott tapped his hand against the table impatiently.

Finch looked up. “How old is she now?”

“Dunno … Eleven, maybe twelve?” Oneill shrugged. “I know my sister’s been real tense these past couple of years ‘cause she was coming up to the age where they start showing traits … Girls usually present earlier, right? Puberty ‘n shit …”

“What do you think she’ll be?”

“Beta, probably.” Oneill took his shot – a ball clicked neatly into one of the holes. Lights flashed around the rim of the table as he stood back with a pleased grin. “But then again, the last time I saw her she was such a feisty little brat, I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be an _alpha!”_

“A _girl_ alpha, huh?” Finch chuckled, “now that would be something!”

“At least you wouldn’t have to worry about any little bitches giving her trouble at school!” Lott grinned. “She’d have ‘em all cowering in their boots!”

“You think that’s a _good_ thing?” Brusquely, Gabriel cut in, his voice sharp. Unlike the others, there was no laughter in his voice.

Jack stopped trying to surreptitiously figure out if he was being needlessly paranoid or if Hyde really _had_ moved closer to the pot plant in a subtle attempt to eavesdrop and glanced back at his packmates, attention piqued.

“Who _wouldn’t_ want their kid to be top of the ladder?” Finch shrugged, “It’s a free pass-”

“-You think being an alpha is so fucking easy, huh?” Gabriel sounded decidedly pissed off now – as though this topic had poked him right on a sore spot. “Really? _You_ of all people should know!” He glowered up at Oneill. “Say she presents as an alpha, and then has to spend the rest of her life fighting against all the idiots who think she’s some kind of violent beast – all aggression and no brain! You’d wish _that_ on a kid …?”

Oneill didn’t answer; he swallowed uncomfortably, visibly taken aback. “I, uh … Guess I didn’t think about that …”

“Girl alphas are super rare though, so it probably won’t happen …” Finch’s voice was the very essence of nonchalance. 

Jack didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. By now he had a fairly confident inkling that someone was pulling strings - that both he and Gabriel had fallen headfirst into something akin to a setup. It was too convenient; too close to the unfounded insults he’d hurled at the officer the night before …

It was on the tip of Jack’s tongue to say something, but he stopped himself.

If Gabriel sensed it too, he didn’t let on - with a deep sigh, the alpha leant heavily against the side of the table and continued, his voice lowering in a confessional way that made all the other men expectantly listen in; “You know, growing up … I was the only one who presented as an alpha out of all my childhood friends. Almost overnight … people became scared of me. People in my own _family_ became nervous to be alone in the same room as me.”

Gabriel faltered; admitting such painful memories was clearly difficult. “Parents of kids who I’d been friends with for _years_ starting telling my classmates to stay away from me, to not hang out with me anymore … As though I’d changed so much that I might _hurt_ them!”

Jack could hear the old wounds still raw in Gabriel’s voice, and it felt like he was being ripped apart. His first instinct was to comfort – the urge to nuzzle up against the officer and sooth away that bitter frown was almost overwhelming. Jack ground his teeth -  _Why_ , of all the times Gabriel could have chosen to open up a little, was he doing so in front of a room full of men where Jack couldn’t even so much as touch his hand?!

“Yeah, I had to deal with shit like that too …” Oneill sighed. Lott hung his head, nodding along in silent, mutual understanding.

Jack felt his cheeks burn. Echoes of what he’d shouted last night played through his head. He wished a sinkhole would open up beneath his feet and engulf him. 

“You know what the worst part was?” Gabriel straightened up again, “the more people started to act that way towards me, the angrier and more stereotypically alpha I started to behave. I couldn’t help it – I was so fed up _all_ the time. Who was going to bother listening to how _I_ felt, when being an alpha already told everyone I loved all they needed to know?”

Brown eyes met blue.

Jack parted his lips – drew in a sharp breath – and then shut them.

_I’m sorry._

He tried to say it, tried to convey with his eyes what he wanted to howl at the top of his lungs.

_I didn’t mean it! I was scared! I’m sorry-!_

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret what I grew up to be,” Gabriel held Jack’s gaze, “but it gets real tiring when the whole world keeps on dishing out the same presumptuous shit over and over again.”

Jack flinched.

Everyone noticed.

“You shouldn’t-” Jack spoke before he thought - “You shouldn’t presume _everyone_ is like that!”

_I’m not like that. I’m not-! It was a lie-!_

As far as apologies went, it was an awful attempt. On some level, Jack was aware of exactly how hypocritical he sounded, but the coherent stream of reasoning he could articulate perfectly inside his head had somehow rolled itself up into that one patronizing insistence and popped out before he’d paused to think.

Gabriel smirked at him, but there was no humour in his eyes. “Guess I’m still waiting to be proven wrong, huh?”

It might as well have been another punch in the face.

Red-cheeked, Jack sharply looked away. He felt frustrated by his own ineloquence – It was an odd, prickly sort of sensation, as though Gabriel had stolen those words right from his own mouth – that was _his_ problem – that was _his_ issue, and to have an alpha dare to parrot it straight back to him in a perfectly mirrored version? It stung. Jack was forced to admit that he _hadn’t_ thought about alphas like that before, and now his head was reeling. All of them seemed to lead such charmed, easy lives … Success was said to be a natural side-effect to their mere _existence!_ Jack had grown up believing everything was always handed to alphas on a platter, so hearing Gabriel describe what he’d suffered as a child … It was mind-boggling. He wanted to know more – was desperate to find a way to properly express his apology ...

Jack glanced over again, but the moment had already passed – Gabriel was now staring down at the pool table, his eyes distant, expression tight and closed off behind what must have been years of unhappy recollections.  

Oneill lightly cleared his throat. After a moment’s pause, Finch clapped his hands together, completely shifting the topic with a bright, unsubtle laugh.

Jack didn’t move.

Gabriel didn’t move.

_Do something-!_

Lott was starting up another game. Jack couldn’t cope with the tension any longer – there were too many people in this room - too many distractions, too many unwanted, prying ears. He rocked on his feet for a few seconds and then impulsively moved around the edge of the table until he was standing right next to Gabriel’s side.

He bumped his elbow against the alpha’s arm. It could have been an accident.

Gabriel sharply lifted his head, eyes focusing – warningly, a challenging glimmering within them as he pointedly shifted away from the contact. 

_One chance._

Jack could understand that much in his silent glare.  

_You got something to say, boy scout?_

_I’ll give you one chance._

“I …” Jack winced, blue eyes round and pleading. “I want to know more … about you ….”

For a few long, drawn-out seconds, Gabriel stared at him as though that was the last thing he would have ever expected Jack to say. He made an irritated face – a heavy sigh – Jack could’ve sworn the alpha almost rolled his eyes.

“You’re a real piece of work, Morrison.”

“Isn’t that what makes me so lovable …?” Jack tried to crack a smile.

Gabriel snorted out a quiet laugh, and then caught himself – looking for half a second as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay angry or not. Finally, he squared his shoulders and gruffly mumbled, “Your nose healed fast, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded, and then lowered his gaze. “Sorry about your lip.”

Reflectively, Gabriel dragged his now fully-healed lower lip through his teeth. Jack stared – he couldn’t help it; all sorts of highly inappropriate urges flashed through Jack's mind when he focused on the sight of that insufferably tempting mouth. _Let me check. Let me kiss it better-!_ It was the perfect moment, the perfect line-!

Oneill let out a loud cheer – he’d scored. Jack startled. Shit. If _only_ they’d been alone-!

From the corner of his gaze, Jack noticed how the rest of the pack were now distinctly _not_ paying them the slightest bit of attention.

_“Te perdono.”_

“Huh?” Jack’s attention jolted back.

_“Te perdono, porque sé que los de tu clase se emocionan fácilmente.”_

Gabriel smirked at him, a provocation dancing in the depths of his tauntingly narrowed gaze. It wasn’t playful – the sharp edge to his voice reminded Jack of exactly how dangerous Gabriel could sometimes appear, in a way that was far more enticing than it rightfully should have been.

“What does that mean ...?!” Jack waited, constricted by the horrible feeling that he was being mocked, but Gabriel’s smirk only widened at his obvious lack of comprehension.  

“A conversation for another time, perhaps …”

“No,” Jack tried to assert, a little desperate; “Let’s talk now.”

He glanced at the others, but they were still resolutely doing a fantastic job of acting unaware. Only Lott grinned, chuckling to himself.

Jack’s heart fluttered with anxiety again.

He looked back at Gabriel and wordlessly tilted his head, indicating the door. _Follow me?_

Gabriel remained motionless. Of course, an alpha would naturally resist the inclination to obey such an impertinent request.

Jack didn’t wait for a response. He couldn’t bear to face a rebuff. So, excusing himself abruptly but easily from the others on the pretence of being tired, he handed his cue back to Finch and made his way swiftly out of the lounge, attempting to act as naturally as possible.

All the corridors were empty at this time of night – the lights dimmed automatically in the evenings, creating an atmosphere where everything felt oddly but subtly different. Even the acoustics of the building seemed to change; Jack’s footsteps clacked a little too loudly in the otherwise silent air. He wondered aimlessly down a few corridors towards the front entrance, unworried about Gabriel finding him – all the alpha would have to do was follow his scent.

What _did_ worry Jack was that Gabriel wouldn’t follow him at all.

He tried to run through all the things he wanted to say in his head – pacing around in a small circle, growing rapidly more frustrated by the second as he struggled to come up with an explanation that would still protect his secret. If Jack _admitted_ he’d only been using those stereotypes as an excuse to push Gabriel away, he’d have to come up with a pretty believable excuse as to why-!

_“Hey.”_

A hand brushed against his arm.

Jack startled, looked up, almost laughed with relief-!

Hyde stared back at him, uncertain, as though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing there. His mouth set in a thin, worried line as he surveyed Jack’s panicked form. “You OK?”

Jack didn’t know how to answer that. He froze, gaze darting down the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone else. “Yeah, I um …” Jack quickly backed off with a quick, awkward little laugh, making vague gestures with one hand. “Y’know, kinda tired …”

“Oh.” Hyde didn’t move. Concern flickered in his eyes. “You … You didn’t look so good back there, so I …”

Jack remained mute, because he was too caught off guard to do anything else.

“Noticed Reyes was giving you the cold shoulder, wondered if-”

“-You don’t need to worry about me!” Jack’s voice came out harsher than he meant it, and Hyde immediately faltered again. He cast his gaze down to his boots.

“I just wondered if everything was alright.”

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice cracked a little bit. “I’m alright …”

Silence fell.

Jack strained his ears for the sound of someone else approaching, but there was nothing.

“I know he’s not the greatest guy to work with.” Hyde tried again – he took half a step closer, attempting a smile. “Don’t forget; I trained with Reyes – I _know_ what he’s like!”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Defiance prickled through Jack almost automatically. He didn’t like this alpha’s tone.

Hyde shot him a puzzled look. “Well, he’s … He’s not exactly easy to get along with, is he?”

Distracted, Jack glanced over his shoulder again.

Hyde persisted; “If he’s not taking care of you-”

“-We’re doing just fine!” Snapping his gaze back, Jack pulled himself up to stand a little taller. “You … Worry about your _own_ pack!”

“You _were_ my pack! I’m allowed to be worried about you.” Hyde moved closer still, his voice low and persuasive. “I’m serious Morrison; you look like you haven’t slept for a week …”

Jack snorted. “You’re not exactly glowing either!”

It was true – Hyde look drained compared to all the times Jack had stood close to him before; there were dark, bluish shadows beneath the officer’s eyes and a tight, worried crease between his brows that never quite seemed to disappear no matter what expression he made – but there was more; beneath the exhaustion and the concern lurked something that Jack found uncomfortably mutual.

He didn’t quite understand why or how, but Hyde was painfully, desperately lonely.

It tugged at Jack’s heartstrings – despite everything; his nurturing omega instincts perked up again. “Look,” Jack swayed, weighing up his options as he cast one final, furtive look down the deserted hallway. He couldn’t let Gabriel catch them like this; it would be the very worst predicament Jack could currently imagine. “Let’s …” He ran his tongue over dry lips, almost unable to believe what he was saying, “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Yeah …?” Hyde immediately brightened up, if only fractionally.

“I meant outside.” Jack gestured towards the front doors. “Wanted to clear my head a bit …”

“Anywhere is fine.”

Like a forlorn, oversized puppy, Hyde followed far too gratefully for Jack’s comfort.

He could only hope that being outside would dissipate their scent on the breeze, because although by now Jack felt more than half convinced Gabriel hadn’t bothered to follow him out of spite, the thought of getting caught alone with another man like this-! Another _alpha-!_

Jack’s insides twisted.

A path ran around the perimeter of the building, and so the two soldiers began to stroll cautiously down it. Jack’s eyes roved over every little shape and shift in the silvery dusk that surrounded them, half fearful someone was going to creep up on them, half loath to focus on his current companion. It was chilly, but somehow the nip in the air didn’t seem to bother Jack anymore.

Hyde kept quiet. Jack wasn’t sure what to say.

Finally, he settled on, “So what … What was it like? When you guys … were training …?”

Hyde’s gaze slid sideways to glance at him – a grim, tired smile curled his lips.

_“Hell.”_

Jack found it was easy to let out a sympathetic laugh, but he couldn’t quite shake off the weird, intuitive feeling that Hyde was talking about something more than simple doses of weird serums and emotionless scientists. But Hyde certainly didn’t seem keen to elaborate on his hellish experiences, because a hush fell over them once more.

Rounding a corner of the building, Jack rolled his shoulders, turning his face away again. He didn’t want to look at Hyde – didn’t want to get too close to him, but the officer did nothing but keep pace as though he too had no idea what to do or say. As the silence dragged on, Jack couldn’t stand the awkwardness for much longer – he chanced a quick peek and was shocked beyond belief – Hyde looked completely lost in thought, gaze downcast, expression absolutely _miserable._

Jack stopped walking, his boots crunching into the gravel.

“Did something happen to you?!”

“What?” Hyde blinked up at him, startled.

“You look …” Jack found he felt far too uncomfortable to say it. “Just … Just wondering, that’s all.”

Slowly, Hyde lowered his gaze again. He shrugged. “I’m tired …”

“In general, or …?”

“Of being here. Of having to do this.”

“… Is it really _that_ bad?” Jack tried to laugh, but the humour fell flat, because Hyde did nothing but cringe. Around them, the air grew more and more strained. It felt colder, as though Jack couldn’t quite breathe.

“I miss my kids. I miss my wife.” Hyde spoke to the space between them. “She’s an omega – real anxious all the time …” He suddenly ran a hand over his face, and Jack really, really hoped that wasn’t to conceal any tears. “I _know_ she won’t be coping without me! I need to go back … I should be taking care of her …”

Jack bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how old Hyde was – the officer looked to be in his late twenties, at least … but it was clear he’d left a very different life to Jack’s own behind, and that made Jack feel horribly out of his depth. He had no idea how to offer comfort whilst still maintaining his distance, so Jack settled on clumsily reaching out to whack the other man lightly on the arm. “Well, hey! C’mon! Don’t be so down about it! In a few weeks, we’ll _all_ be on leave, and then-!”

 “- _What?!”_ Hyde stepped back – he stared at Jack as though the younger man had gone mad.

Jack faltered. “’ _Leave’_ ,” he repeated, because the way Hyde gawped at him was more than a little unnerving. “When all us recruits graduate into SEP’s official ranks, we’ll all get at least a couple of weeks off before active service begins, right?”

_“Who told you that?!”_

Jack’s breath caught in his throat.

“N-No one … but I … I always thought …” He narrowed his eyes; this didn’t make sense; the way Hyde responded was all wrong. “I mean, I always thought-”

“-You _thought?!”_ Hyde let out a sharp, broken laugh. Jack took a step back. “You thought?!” the alpha repeated. “You …” He grimaced, and then shook his head. _“Fucking hell, Morrison …”_

“I … I don’t get it.” Jack was more than a little confused now. Alright, so if he stopped to consider it, he realized that no one had ever _officially_ said that they’d be granted a period of leave once the enhancement program was complete … but the idea wasn’t something Jack had come up with all on his own – he’d heard it rumoured and parroted around amongst the packs for months now, until all of them had started talking about it in a way that had implied it was unquestionably true.

Hyde dragged a hand over his face again. “Maybe it will be different for you lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you will get leave.”

“… And you wouldn’t?” Uncertainty lined Jack’s voice.

Hyde didn’t answer. Instead, he countered with a question of his own. “You _chose_ do to this. Didn’t you? All of the recruits …”

“… Yeah …?”

He looked away again.

Jack frowned. “Are you saying, you-”

“-I’m not allowed to talk about my training.” Hyde suddenly clammed up – his scowl deepened. “I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s … It’s classified.”

“Oh …” Jack shivered. He wasn’t cold. “Surely it can’t have been so different, anyway …”

For a moment, Hyde appeared to struggle with himself. “Do you …” He was clearly choosing his words very carefully. “Do you know how many of us there actually _are,_ in SEP?”

Jack thought about it. He shook his head.

“Fourteen.”

“Oh …”

“Fourteen … out of _fifty_ original recruits.”

Hyde waited. He seemed to be begging with his eyes for Jack to understand.

“Wow.” Jack did a double-take, “so that-! … What happened to all the others?! Did that many _seriously_ drop out-?!”

“No one dropped out.” Hyde looked Jack straight in the eye. _“They died.”_

Silence.

Hyde shifted, glancing around as though half-terrified something was lurking in the night air nearby them. He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, and Jack leant forward to hear, so horrified and so morbidly curious that he momentarily forgot to be wary. “What those demons in the lab are doing to you,” Hyde growled out, “is a process that was finetuned after testing it out on _us –_ the first batch. _You’re_ the lucky ones … It looks like they’re refined the process.”

“… I’ve never heard anyone mention anything like that before.” Jack shivered again, as the shock settled into him.

“Did you ever ask?”

“… No?”

Hyde let out a curt, dry laugh. “I thought you were close to that moody bastard.”

“W-We’re …” Jack flinched; it pained him to admit it. “We’re not _that_ close …” _Not as close as I want to be._ “He doesn’t - He wouldn't disobey orders ...”

“Not even for you?” Hyde arched one brow.

Now it was Jack who felt close to tears. “I … I don’t know.”

“You’re-”

“-But I want to believe in this program!" Jack blinked, focusing his gaze. “Maybe some terrible shit has been covered up here, but … but this whole enhancement process … What they’re _doing_ to us … It’s a _good_ thing, right? It can only be a good thing ...” Jack bit his lip, gazing at Hyde doubtfully. “We’re doing something great for our country! It … It might feel horrific and scary and wrong but … we’re still going to help so many people in the end!” He was grasping for something - anything - and Jack knew it, but the prospect of _not_ finding some sort of reassuring excuse was too terrifying to even contemplate right now.  “We’re _soldiers!_ None of us would have chosen this if we weren’t aware of the danger-! All those men who died … Surely they _knew_ the risk …!”

Hyde didn’t answer him. He smiled, too tired and broken. 

Jack trailed off. His head reeled; the darkness felt like it was pressing in on him from all sides. _“Shit …”_ He let out a heavy breath, struggling to ground himself. “I … I don’t even know what to think right now …”

“I will tell you this.” Hyde’s voice sharpened. “None of those ‘genius’ researches know what they’re doing. All those promises – all those innovative scientific breakthrough stories they sold you at the recruitment drive - It’s all bullshit!” Hyde shuddered abruptly, wrapping his arms around himself, expression becoming distant and pained as he recalled. "It was all lies! All of it! Didn't take us long to figure out they had no idea what that shit was ... Almost half of us died within the first _week-!"_

His voice tapered off into a growl, and Jack saw the alpha’s knuckles turn white as Hyde dug his fingers into his arms hard enough to leave marks. 

“Don’t-!” Alarmed by such obvious distress, Jack instinctively reached out. He grabbed Hyde by the forearms. “C’mon … It’s OK … _It’s OK …”_

Hyde tensed, flinching away as though Jack's touch was electric. A growl rose in the back of his throat, but then he faltered - Jack's naturally soothing touch gently coaxing the alpha to relax. With another visable shudder, Hyde appeared to cast off whatever dark memories had momentarily engulfed him. He let out a shaky breath and gazed intently at Jack for a few moments, studying his face in silence. Jack wasn’t sure what expression he was wearing, but it definitely had some kind of effect – Hyde’s gaze dilated, and then Jack felt his cheek cupped in one big, brawny hand.

_“H-Hey-!”_

Hyde didn’t speak, but he slid his palm down over the omega’s cheek, thumb straying far too close to Jack’s lips before he reached his neck, gently scent-marking him with the inside of his wrist.

It was far too intimate a gesture to be mistaken as anything other than a presumptuous, possessive move, and Jack immediately thought to pull away in outrage. His skin tingled. Jack didn’t want this man, but the affection felt wonderful - his skin craved more of the physical touch even if it meant being scent-marked without permission. Jack couldn’t help it.

“You’re making that face again.” Hyde almost smiled.

“W-What face?” Jack tried to move, but he couldn’t – Hyde’s fingers were running over his neck, his thumb stroking a soft path against his still far-too sensitive skin. He was almost – _almost_ holding Jack by the throat, and Jack’s body was close to going limp on instinct. Alarm bells sprung up in the back of his mind – no matter how subtle; this alpha was trying to coerce him-!

“No wonder Reyes is so wrapped around your little finger.” Hyde’s other hand came up to slide through Jack’s hair, his voice shifting from a growl into something almost akin to a purr. “You put the same spell on him you keep throwing over me, huh?”

“I-I …” Jack wavered, and then snapped himself out of it. He firmly pushed the alpha’s hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ignoring this with a dismissive smirk, Hyde caught Jack's arm by the wrist and tugged him closer, tilting his head forward as he nosed gently along the edge of Jack's hairline. "You smell real nice." His voice took on a sligthly guttural tone. "Real sweet. Couldn't pint it down before; it's weird ... Hell, maybe I'm goin' crazy, but it kinda reminds me of my wife ..."

“Well I’m _not_ your wife, so quit it!” Jack immediately thumped his hands against Hyde’s chest, shoving him back – a little startled that he _could_ push such a powerful, muscular man back. Jack’s heart pounded, startled and uneasy as he squared his shoulders. “Don’t misunderstand-!”

“What’s the problem?" Hyde glared at him. "It’s not like you have a mate …”

Jack scowled. “Doesn’t mean you can mark me-!”

Indignation flashed across Hyde’s face. _“You_ were the one who offered-!”

Jack barred his teeth, posturing in a way that was almost like a fighting stance. “You’re _married!”_ he hissed. “Have some respect-!”

His words hit home. Hyde winced again, his face screwing up as he half growled, half sobbed; “What does it matter anymore?! She’s probably left me by now-! She's probably found someone else - another man raising my kids-!”

“What the hell makes you say that?!”

“Because …” Hyde turned away. His hands balled up into fists. “Because I haven’t been allowed to see her for _years …”_

_"... What?!"_

Jack couldn't quite make sense of what he was hearing, but for the first time he felt the breeze clearly that night, and it chilled him right down to the bone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh heck what is going on in this place ?!?!?
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying the plot even if you just came here for smut! >.> We'll get there eventually.  
> Having said that, many things which were meant to happen in this chapter .... didn't, so:  
> Upcoming: TWO moments which everyone has been waiting for!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Update time again!

 

Jack sat on a set of stone steps outside the barracks, motionless, elbows resting on his knees, face cupped a little too tightly in both his hands. His unfocused eyes gazed blankly out into the darkness surrounding him, but there was nothing amongst the dusky shapes of the outbuildings that held Jack’s interest; indeed, he barely noticed any of his surroundings.

Hyde had gone.

He’d been gone for quite some time now.

Jack still felt shocked, mind buzzing with the bizarreness of the scene that had unfolded before him – of witnessing the visible incongruity of such a powerful, competent officer dissolve into panicked, embarrassed tears. Hyde had stormed off when faced with the reality of his advances, angry and seemingly inconsolable as he drowned beneath a concoction of pained guilt.

Jack didn’t know if that counted as a lucky escape or not.

He wasn’t sure if he should feel sorry for Hyde – couldn’t understand why the officer seemed so convinced his wife would have left him. What had Hyde meant by stating he hadn’t been allowed to see his family for years? It didn’t strike Jack as a lie – something the alpha could have said to make the prospect of his attempted infidelity appear more palatable. Hyde had genuinely broken down at the mere reminder of it.

Jack couldn’t make head nor tail of the situation.

What bothered him more was the revelation that his own enhancements had been built on the sacrificed lives of over thirty men. Over thirty men _killed_ – destroyed by SEP’s unscrupulous experimentation. Such newfound knowledge didn’t sit well with Jack; it made him feel deeply unsettled. Why had no one ever told them about this before?!

On one hand, Jack knew exactly why – he wasn’t _that_ naïve … but still …

For so many men to have disappeared without a trace, without any explanation to the outside world – no news statement, no rumours, nothing that struck Jack’s memory as a potential cover-up … It felt wrong. Jack wondered if the families of the deceased had ever been told the truth. For _that_ many to have been so easily expendable, surely someone somewhere must have started to put two and two together …?

In a weird sort of way, shocked though Jack was, he found that the thought didn’t quite stun him as much as he might have expected. Or at least, it didn’t once the initial shock began to wear off. He’d always known on some level that this entire program was sketchy as hell. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out – SEP was undoubtedly _highly_ illegal. Jack was no expert, but he felt fairly certain there were international treaties that prohibited even the mere suggestion of human experimentation, and that was for research purposes, never mind nations trying to build up super-enhanced armies …

Jack laughed quietly to himself, but the sound was strained – there was no humour in his stuttered breath. _Of course_ it had all turned out to be too good to be true – the promises, the big smiles, the alluring, enigmatic words of the smartly suited men who’d first come to indoctrinate them into the program … It was all lies! Nothing but false guarantees and reassurance. Jack felt like an idiot for not seriously thinking about it before, but then he realized such hints of danger were exactly what had been a part of SEP’s initial appeal. Such secrecy! Such mystery! Knowing that SEP was some kind of top-secret government project … It was all part of what had drawn Jack to it in the first place. He’d _liked_ the idea of getting involved with something so risky, of being one of the chosen ‘elite’ … but that didn’t mean he’d ever imagined the risk extended to being treated as nothing more than a bunch of replaceable lab rats in a very elaborate cage!

Jack shivered, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the night air or his own worrying ruminations.

It looked like Gabriel had decided not to follow him.

Given the bombshell Hyde had just dropped, Jack supposed that was a good thing – especially since to top it all off nicely, the other alpha’s scent was now marked vividly against his neck. As much as Jack had faith in his abilities to talk himself out of trouble, he also knew such blatant evidence wasn’t something he could readily brush off, especially to a man like Gabriel – who definitely had no tolerance for excuses. Jack resigned himself to this, but an aching feeling still flooded into his chest – an almost physical sensation of abandonment. He hunched up and covered his eyes for a few moments, struggling to maintain his composure.

When he lifted his head, Jack blinked furiously, staring out into the darkness with his head tilted back as though that would do any good. He drew in deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, distracting himself by using his enhanced vision to pick out every little shape and detail of the grounds before him – the shrubs that shifted gently in the breeze, the outlines and grooves of the buildings across the yard, the path that led back up to the main entrance … By focusing solely on what he could see, Jack felt his mentality stabilize a little. He tried to calm down. His eyes felt less wet.  

Gabriel was probably a lost cause – a ruined chance. Something Jack should have known better than to hope for right from the very start. He didn’t have time for this – couldn’t focus on such trivial things when it now seemed like he was trapped here; that there would be no leave – that apparently, none of the recruits had any rights or autonomy anymore-!

Jack gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks with him; if he was too tired, too highly-strung or what, but patches of the darkness seemed to swirl before his eyes as though the shifting night air drew closer together in certain places. Jack blinked, shook his head, tried to shake off the flash of red that darted before his vision like a coyote’s eyes caught in a torchlight. His skin prickled with some sixth sense – the gravel on the path shifted in the opposite direction to the breeze. Jack balked, half stood up-!

“Scared of the dark, Blondie?”

With a gasp, Jack fell heavily back onto his butt. He gawped up at Gabriel, who’d apparently strolled over, silent as a spectre, from completely the other side. “You … You came …?!”

Gabriel snorted. _“You_ invited me, idiot.”

“I-I …” Panic rose within Jack – how long had Gabriel - what if Hyde -?!

“You could’ve specified ‘outside’ when you begged me to talk.” Slowly, Gabriel sank down onto the steps beside Jack. He draped his arms over his knees and kept his face turned away, irritation evident in the snubbing arch of his back. “Almost gave up; thought you were stringing me along _again_ …”

His tone wasn’t lost on Jack – the sharp, sarcastic sting of the ‘again’ smarted against his cheeks.

“You didn’t have to …” Jack fumbled, feeling awkward and far too aware of himself. Gabriel sat only a few inches away, still wearing Jack’s very own t-shirt – but the gap felt like a mile, a distance Jack didn’t know how to cross.

Silence lingered.

“You looked really upset,” Gabriel finally commented, gruffly, gaze sliding sideways to glance at Jack before quickly darting away.

“Yeah …” Jack echoed his quiet tone. He coughed, hiding the tremor in his voice by clearing his throat. “I didn’t … I didn’t realize you’d experienced anything like that …”

“No?” Gabriel laughed, but the sound was deeply sardonic. “Well, I guess in-between being a stereotypical _knothead_ and using my subordinates like toys-”

_“-Stop it!”_

Jack’s composure shattered almost instantly. He twisted to face Gabriel, one hand outstretched, pulling back only at the last moment. “I didn’t mean any of that! You _know_ I didn’t-!”

Gabriel fixed him with a piercing, wordless look that was hard to decode.

“I wouldn’t _be_ here trying to talk to you if I believed that …” Jack winced, pleading.

Slowly, Gabriel looked away again. “So why are you here?”

“Because I …” Jack hesitated, and then found his courage. “I _did_ mean what I said tonight. I want to know more about you.”

His confession earnt a bitter smile. “We’ve been working together for almost half a year. You already know everything you need to.”

“I’m not talking about ‘Officer Reyes.’” Jack bit his lip, struggled to form the right words, and then gave up entirely – he let his emotions run out in an unashamed torrent. “I’m talking about ‘Gabriel’ … I want to get to know _you._ I-I mean, if you’re okay with that … If you’d want that … because I realized tonight, when you were talking about what it was like for you growing up … I barely know anything about you at all! It’s so weird!” Jack laughed nervously as the notion struck him again. “We’ve been working together so closely all this time; I almost feel like I’ve known you _forever,_ but really …? I don’t know anything! Not a damn thing! And I … I want to change that. I want to understand you – to be closer to you …”

He trailed off; Gabriel’s complete lack of response didn’t look too promising.

Half a minute passed. All Jack could hear was the thump of his own pulse.

Gabriel passed a hand over his face, let out a sigh, and then hunched up his shoulders.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” His voice was half soft, half annoyed.

“Not where you’re concerned.”

_“Jesus_ , Jackie …” Gabriel groaned into his hand. “You know what? I wish you’d turned out to be some arrogant asshole! Why couldn’t you be some corn-fed little brat who expected the world to fall at his feet, huh? Some smug little ingrate who was easy to hate? Why’d you gotta turn out like _this_ …”

It wasn’t the response Jack had anticipated – unexpectedly, he found those exasperations resonating with him. He couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. “Hey! Stop stealing _my_ problems!”

For the first time, the faintest flicker of a smile quirked Gabriel’s lips.

Encouraged, Jack tilted his head. “Anyway, I thought I _was_ all of those things …?”

“Maybe you are,” Gabriel gave in; he let out a wry chuckle, “but … I don’t know. Something ‘bout you. It’s hard to hate.”

Jack waited.

“Never understood why you wanted to impress me so much.” Gabriel spoke to the yard in front of them, expression deceptively nonchalant. “Never understood why it seemed so important that I accepted you. Used to unnerve the hell out of me; the way you always looked for me, with those goddamn blue eyes … So fucking stubborn and determined.”

“Is … Is that a bad thing?” Jack’s shoulders drooped. “I …”

“Why _me?!”_ Gabriel sought out Jack’s gaze and held it this time, his eyes searchingly intense. “Is it just because I’m pack leader? If you want to fixate on someone-”

“-I’m not ‘fixated’ on you!” Jack gasped – he was almost outraged. _“Seriously?!_ Is it that much of a stretch to believe someone would actually _want_ to get close to you?! Yeah, fine – maybe you being pack leader _was_ the start of it; you’re the most impressive solider I’ve ever met! Can you blame a guy for acting a little starstruck at first?!”

Gabriel didn’t answer; his brows lowered, unimpressed.

“But, then-!” Jack floundered for words. “I started to see a different side … Sometimes, whenever we talked … We laughed a lot-! Over stupid little things, sure … but it … It made me think that somewhere behind that standoffish, uptight officer act there was a guy I could really get along with.”

Gabriel’s frown softened; Jack felt his confidence bolster.

“You also happen to be a fuckin’ incredible artist, which is pretty much equivalent to _sorcery_ for all the creative ability I have, and I … I don’t know-!” Frustrated, Jack ran a hand through his hair. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’ve got this whole mysterious vibe that makes me think, _damn_ this guy looks like he has a lot of interesting shit to say and I want to hear it …?”

Silence fell over them again. Gabriel shifted – Jack dared to think he looked placated. “You … You’re making this real difficult for me …”

“You want to put the blame on _me_ for making life difficult, but …” Jack’s tone quietened; he was somewhat afraid to point this out, “there’s been plenty of times when _you_ picked on me for no reason at all …”

“Hn. Yeah.” Gabriel tilted his head back; Jack saw the whiteness of his teeth flash in a smile that almost looked like a grimace. “You got me there,” the alpha huffed out a soft laugh, “there _were_ times when I singled you out.”

“Why …?” Subconsciously, Jack held his breath.

A pause dragged on while Gabriel appeared to be debating whether or not to answer. “You won’t like hearing this …”

“Try me.”

Gabriel shot him another shrewd look.

“C’mon!” Jack prompted, now frowning himself. “I’m making an effort here … at least _try_ and do the same …?”

“Alright. Fine … I _wanted_ to hate you.” Gabriel smirked at Jack. Guiltily. Amused. “When we first met, I wanted so _badly_ to hate you. I read your file, was told so much about you; you seemed too good to be true - the perfect solider, a pretty little poster-boy I was supposed to feel _grateful_ for having the honour of training. I …. I couldn’t stand it.” Gabriel chuckled softly, shamefaced. “I hated how everything seemed to have fallen into place for you, how much _motivation_ you had … Knowing that you _wanted_ to be here, that you _chose_ to do all this-!”

_Chose._

Jack faltered – there it was again, that odd choice of words.

He parted his lips – desperate to ask for clarification, but how could he possibly ask without mentioning Hyde?!

“Who …” Jack struggled internally for a moment. “Who said all those things … about me?”

Gabriel shook his head. “… Forget it.”

“But-!”

 “-It doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter; someone _poisoned_ you against me-!”

“-It’s _entirely_ my fault!” Gabriel avoided his gaze. “It’s … how I see things. Anyway … It’s not important anymore. I’m sorry.” His voice turned heavy; it was clearly a hard thing to admit. “I don’t intend to do it again.”

“… S’ok.” Jack knew he should have felt angry, but it was challenging. He remembered the look of pure misery on Hyde’s face. He thought about how many fellow recruits Gabriel must have helplessly witnessed dying a slow, agonizing death. “We’ve … We’ve all been through some dark times here, I guess. I didn’t really understand what you were doing, anyway …”

“Neither did I.” Gabriel grinned, a touch bitter. “All these push-and-pull games you kept trying to play … I couldn’t cope with it.”

Jack pouted. “You ignored me too-!”

“What the hell was I supposed to think?!” Gabriel’s voice dropped to a low, irritated tone. “Goddammit Jack, don’t be so fucking dense! I was giving you a chance to act like nothing happened! I didn’t know what else to do! We were getting too close; I had to push you away, but then I fucking regretted it and then … and then …” He trailed off. “I never know _what_ to do when you’re around! I’m not used to this! I don’t know how to play these games …”

Jack inched fractionally closer, unaware that he was doing so. “You …?”

“Didn’t you realize that?!” Gabriel finally twisted to face him. “You so wrapped up in your own head, huh?”

When that provoked no answer - Jack was too stunned, Gabriel’s grin slid back into place, but this time it wasn’t entirely friendly. “You think you were the only one who was confused – scared, even? I had my own concerns; I’m your officer, your pack leader … I couldn’t tell if this was all a joke to you or not. You could’ve turned on me; got me into serious trouble … Abuse of power, all that shit-!”

Aghast, Jack reached out; he grabbed Gabriel by the forearm. “I would _never_ do that-!”

“-Yeah? You know what else?” Gabriel was too busy venting to pay attention. “I admit it; sometimes I _do_ shut everyone out. I didn’t ask to be put in charge of a pack – a bunch of bright-eyed _babies_ who don’t know a single damn thing! It’s stressful, y’know?! Having to take on that responsibility … and sometimes, I have things to be thinking about that make me not want to talk to anyone for a while. My _own_ problems. It’s not good, it’s not polite, but I can’t help it and it has _nothing_ to do with you-!”

Jack said nothing; he tightened his grip around Gabriel’s arm.

“You ever consider that? How maybe the world _doesn’t_ revolve around you?! _God-!”_ Gabriel looked away, teeth barred, tensed almost as though he wanted to shove Jack off the steps. “You’re a selfish little shit, but every time I try to push you away, you act like _this-!_ Like I’m the only one you can see; the only one that matters … I … I can’t get you out of my head-!”

Jack was shocked. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Gabriel speak so bluntly or even so much before. His words still stung, though.

“I … I don’t think I’m selfish …”

“What is it, then?” A chilly glint of amusement sparked across Gabriel’s eyes. “Sheer stupidity?”

Jack frowned – he let go of Gabriel’s arm.

“Come here-!” Without warning, Gabriel suddenly leant towards Jack – far too close – clawing with one hand to tug Jack’s shirt away from his neck.

_“H-Hey-!”_ Jack yelped, instantly scrambling to pull back as the alpha pressed his face into the curve of his throat - but it was too late -!

“I can smell Hyde on you.”

Gabriel sat back. His words didn’t come out as angry as Jack would have expected – there was something withdrawn and altogether too calm about the way the alpha arched one dark, questioning brow.

“I-I didn’t-!” Flustered, Jack pawed at his neck. “It’s not what it seems-! I never-! He-!”

“-If you prefer Hyde to me, I can transfer you to his pack.”

Around them, the breeze turned icily cold.

_“No!”_ Jack froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. He was horrified. “You can’t! You wouldn’t dare-!”

Gabriel’s face remained almost expressionless – mask-like, a look Jack had seen him don many times before. It wasn’t the Gabriel he knew; this man was too calculated. Entirely unsympathetic.

_“Evidently,_ you think higher of him than me!” Gabriel’s voice dragged into a low snarl. A hot twist of corresponding shame knotted itself up in Jack’s stomach. “Letting another alpha scent-mark you so freely-!”

“I didn’t-!”

“-You think he makes a better pack leader? A better alpha-?! Is _that_ why you started giving me the cold-shoulder, huh? You found a new fool to play with while I was away? I _knew_ he was eyeing you-!”

“For the last time-!” Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes and briefly considered punching Gabriel again. “I didn’t mean what I said when I was angry! Didn’t you _listen?!_ I was trying to push you away! I wanted an excuse … I needed a reason to-!” Jack realized he couldn’t explain without outing himself, and so cut off his words, slumping forward with a groan of frustration until his head was pressed into his hands. “Alright, I give in!” Jack thumped his fist against his forehead. “I get it now! I’m selfish! I’m so fucking selfish … and I’m sorry too! I’m sorry for treating you like shit because I couldn’t deal with my own issues but …” His voice cracked, “you _don’t understand what I’m dealing with here …”_

“Do you _want_ me to understand?” Gabriel’s voice remained low.

Silently, Jack nodded. _I wish._ He wanted to scream it, wanting to pour out his heart-!

“I’ve already _told_ you, if there’s something you want to tell me, I can keep it off-record.” Gabriel nudged his fist against the mop of messy blonde hair cowering in front of him. “I’m _not_ your enemy, Jack. You don’t have to go through this alone-!”

Jack sniffled. “I thought you didn’t care …”

_“I_ thought I’d pushed you too far! I thought you wanted out-!”

“-I don’t want out, you idiot!” Jack sharply looked up. His cheeks were flushed, blue eyes all dewy, face infuriatingly handsome even when he looked like he was about to burst into tears. “I don’t want Hyde! I want … I want _you!”_

Silence settled over them. Jack flinched at the way his voice seemed to echo into the darkness.

Gabriel snapped his mouth shut. He looked like he’d been braced for something, but not _that._

Utterly distraught, Jack shifted away. He half got up, intending to flee-!

“Wait-!” Gabriel caught hold of Jack’s arm and yanked him back down. Jack flailed, panicked, one wrist tightly enveloped in Gabriel’s iron grip. “Jackie … c’mon …” the alpha’s other hand slid onto Jack’s upper arm, palm gliding up, fingers lightly squeezing into his bicep comfortingly. “Don’t run away from me …”

“I can’t-!” Jack turned his face away, screwing his eyes shut. “You don’t understa-”

“-Stop.” Gabriel let go of Jack’s wrist and reached out, cupping one side of his face before deliberately running his wrist down over the side of Jack’s neck, scent-marking him far more thoroughly than Hyde’s chaste attempt. Jack couldn’t help it; he melted into the touch, exhaling softly as his body relaxed. It felt right, this time … letting _this_ alpha put a mark on him … erasing the one that shouldn’t have been there …

_“Gabriel …”_ Jack whispered the name, uncertain if he was even allowed to say it. Gabriel let his hand stay against Jack’s neck, easing it around to rub soothingly at his nape.

“Did you mean what you just said?”

“About what …?” Jack was too distracted by the warm touch of that heavy, gun-calloused hand to notice the way Gabriel’s eyes had dilated, the way the alpha was looking at his serene expression with something akin to fascination.

“About me.”

Blue eyes seared into brown. Jack bit his lip. “It’s only _ever_ been you …”

_“Mi sol …”_

Gabriel kissed him. Instantly, without any further warning, as though something inside of him had finally torn down its barriers. Jack gasped against his mouth - Gabriel’s lips felt silken, their touch hot and urgent, luring Jack forward until he found his arms entwining around the strong sinews of the other man’s neck as he sought to feel more. For a split-second they broke apart, breath somehow ragged already as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was a searching, eager, hungry look … but Jack couldn’t stand it for longer than a heartbeat; he leant forward and kissed Gabriel again fervently, a soft sound catching in the back of his throat as he finally, finally got to confirm that the alpha’s insufferably tempting mouth felt as good as it looked.

It was a little clumsy; Jack was inexperienced, Gabriel most likely out of practise, but both of them were immediately so spellbound by the other that it hardly seemed to matter. Without hesitation Gabriel deepened the kiss, brazenly nudging Jack’s lips apart and delving into his mouth until Jack was left breathless against the sensuous touches of a very demanding tongue. Gabriel’s lips were so warm, his beard surprisingly soft … Jack couldn’t get enough of it, couldn’t get enough of the firm, heavy body pressed so decisively against his. Panting and needy, they lingered for a few minutes – it wasn’t long enough for Jack – but then Gabriel pulled back with the most wicked smirk, utter delight dancing in his eyes.

_“Finally …”_ Jack couldn’t help but grin – he felt almost dizzy, elated beyond belief.

“Been thinking about that for a while, huh?” Gabriel’s voice was husky as he flashed his teeth in that bright, so rarely seen smile.

“Don’t start-!” Jack’s lips were pink, wet from _his_ kiss … Gabriel made no effort to hide how hungrily he studied them while Jack ran a hand through the inky-black curls of his hair, stroking over the shorter fuzz at the sides before leaning forward again to rest their foreheads together. _“You’ve been aching for this as long as I have …”_

“Arrogant little-!” Gabriel huffed out a deep, amused sound – darting forward to nip at Jack’s lips; he caught the lower between his teeth, the unanticipated sharpness making Jack whimper softly. “Always saying what you shouldn’t-!”

Jack couldn’t speak, could only gaze at Gabriel and beam one of his brightest smiles.

“I thought you were just idolizing me …” Gabriel started to trail his lips along Jack’s jaw, nuzzling against him until he found that little sweet spot where Jack’s scent was the strongest – Gabriel pressed his mouth against it, suckling gently, and Jack’s breathy laughter stuttered into tiny moan as his hands tightened their hold around Gabriel’s neck. “Some puppy crush,” the alpha growled against that fluttering pulse point, “thought it would wear off … S’happened before …”

Jack shivered – the feel of Gabriel’s lips on his skin – against his _throat_ – made him want to tilt his head back and encourage the alpha to bite him, mark him, do _more_ to him-!

“H-Hey …!” Panicked by his own sudden flood of submissive desires, Jack squirmed, tugging at Gabriel’s t-shirt until the other man was forced to look up again. Somewhere through their dreamy haze, those words bothered him. “Gabriel, I fancy the fuck out of you, please don’t-!” 

Fingers gently pressed against Jack’s lips, silencing him. Gabriel shot him a wolfish grin. “What did I just say, about your troublesome mouth?”

Jack relaxed – he smiled against the fingers, kissed the pads of them softly. “Shut it for me, then?”

It was a slow second kiss; deep and lingering as the two of them stopping thinking and simply immersed themselves in how it _felt._ Somewhere in the far-off regions of his heavily distracted mind, Jack found himself reasoning that while kissing was a nice enough thing in itself, kissing someone he’d been pining over for _months_ was quite possibly the closest thing to bliss he’d ever encountered. Gabriel’s scent was all around him, thick and heady and reassuring, and Jack felt a pleased thrill run down his spine as the alpha made a crooning, contented sound of pleasure from deep within his chest. Inexperienced though Jack was, he felt reassured – at least he seemed to be doing something right.

Finally, they parted again, but only far enough to allow space to breathe.

_“Fuck-!”_ Gabriel coiled one arm around Jack’s waist, dragging him until he was almost seated in his lap. His eyes were misty, hands sliding all over the other man’s shoulders, his arms, into his hair as though he was scared Jack was going to disappear. “I could kiss you all night and not get bored-!”

“You owe me!” Jack bit his lip. “Months of kisses! From months when you _should_ have been kissing me-!”

“Demanding little shit.” Gabriel’s voice was thick with affection, his smile one of the purest Jack had ever seen. Still, a flicker of doubt sobered him for a moment; he tightened his grip on Gabriel’s shoulders.

“You won’t _really_ have me transferred to Hyde’s pack, will you?”

“No!” Immediately, Gabriel let out a rich, baritone laugh. “I was bluffing!”

Pained, Jack stared at him.

“You think I’m gonna hand _my_ Golden Boy over to another man?! My best protégée? My Chico de Oro …? Nah, Hyde can fuck off! I’ll break his neck if he scent-marks you again.”

Jack was too emotionally fraught to know quite how to react to that. “You … You fucker!” He laughed, and then thumped his hand into Gabriel’s chest, and then kissed him again. “You nearly gave me a heart attack-! I’ll get you back for that!”

Gabriel continued to laugh.

“I’m serious-!” Jack whined at him. “I was terrified-!”

“How else was I supposed to get _any_ kind of truth out of you?! I’d already tried everything else …”

Jack didn’t answer. He looked down petulantly, eyeing the broad expanse of chest in front of him so he didn’t have to meet the smirking alpha’s gaze.   

“He _did_ ask me, though … to do a transfer.” Gabriel kept his voice deceivingly light. “Asked me weeks ago, when I first came back.”

Jack tensed again. He glanced back up, to find Gabriel gazing at him intently. “Said if I couldn’t cope he’d be happy to take you off my hands …”

“What … What did you say back?”

“What do you think?” Gabriel’s smile turned a little dark. Relief flooded through Jack, and it echoed in his laugh, but it was a weaker version – he felt suddenly vulnerable, as though he was treading on thin ice. Jack slid his hand down over Gabriel’s chest, tugging lightly at the hemline of the t-shirt that had one belonged to him, gifting himself with a sly peak of that alluring tattoo.

_“Hyde thinks I’ve bewitched you …”_

_“… He’s not wrong.”_

Jack felt shy all over again; heat bloomed in his cheeks, his natural instincts begging him to curl up and preen at the sound of Gabriel’s soft, coaxing tone. Instead, he tugged at the t-shirt a little more indicatively this time. “Why did you do that?”

“Hm?”

“You stole this off me …”

“Oh …” Gabriel looked down and chuckled. “Yeah …”

“It’s too small for you.”

“Didn’t care. I wanted a reaction. Felt like anything was better than getting ignored by you – even another punch in the face …”

Jack laughed breathlessly. “You’re messed up.”

“Look who’s talking.”

_“Now_ who’s being selfish?”

“Only where you’re concerned …”

Jack flushed with happiness. He leant forward, tentatively, and pressed a chaste kiss to Gabriel’s lips. “I like that …” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he pressed another kiss against the alpha’s cheek. “I like that you can’t stop thinking about me - that you can’t get me out of your head. Even though we probably shouldn’t …”  

Gabriel squeezed his arms around Jack’s waist, pulling him a little closer. “When we’re on duty … When we’re training … I have to be your senior and your pack leader. Nothing more than that.”

“I know …” Jack felt a little gloomy.

“Even after hours, if people start to notice us together a lot … it could become a problem.”

“I _know_ …” Jack pouted at him. “But-! Why not … If you _ever_ have free time … I don’t know; teach me how to draw, or teach me Spanish, or something-!”

“What?” Gabriel’s genuine laugh was so different from his sarcastic one. “Why should I do that?!”

“Why not?” Jack felt embarrassed for asking, but the idea nagged at him too strongly to pass up. “It’s an excuse to spend time together! If anyone asks us, we can just say it’s like … a behavioural therapy thing. A mentoring exercise. You know people love that shit! You’re pack leader; it’s what you’re there for …”

Gabriel paused. He rubbed at his beard while he considered it. “You know … that’s actually a pretty decent excuse …”

“So we can …?”

Gabriel hesitated. “… Maybe.”

_“Please …?”_

One glance at those blue eyes was all it took for Gabriel to melt. “I don’t have a lot of free time,” he conceded, “but I’ll try to figure something out.”

Jack’s smile was breath-taking.

“Anyway-!” Cheeks a little ruddy, Gabriel shifted, gently depositing Jack back onto the steps. “I can’t sit here for too long; I need to escort the night guards to their station …”

“Oh …” Jack didn’t want to let go of him. For a few moments, neither of them moved.

“I’ll let you know, yeah?” Slowly, Gabriel stood up.

“Yeah …” Jack also rose.

Both of them swayed on the spot in front of each other. Jack leant forward – Gabriel kissed him fleetingly. Both laughed, staring down at their boots.

“So, um … Later, I guess.” Jack ran a hand through his hair again.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to walk you home?” Gabriel grinned.

_“No-!”_ Jack wrinkled his nose with another chuckle, stepping away. “I’ll be fine!”

He strode a few metres down the path and then glanced back over his shoulder; Gabriel watched him go, still smirking as he tilted his head in a final goodbye. Jack flashed him another smile – tilted his head back, and then hurried away up the path.

It wasn’t an instant fix for all their problems. Jack knew that. He also knew it didn’t mean he was out of danger. Far from it, in fact – Jack was fully aware that he might have gone and made his life a thousand times more difficult from here on. Yet in that one moment as he bounded back up the path towards the barracks, the omega found that he honestly didn’t care. His heart felt like it was soaring, his mind totally encompassed by the fresh memories of that kiss – of _all_ those kisses-!

Jack didn’t allow himself to consider what it might mean for his secret. He didn’t dwell on the fact that Hyde probably wasn’t going to give up. Jack didn’t even have much room in his mind to dwell on all the other sinister fragments he’d learnt tonight – the fact that he’d _finally_ kissed Gabriel, that Gabriel seemed to be equally interested in _him-!_

When he arrived back at his room, Jack realized it was almost midnight. He blinked at the holoscreen clock, surprised that it was so late.

Finch was sprawled out on his bed in the gloom, back against the wall, staring at nothing.

“You won’t _believe_ what I’ve been through tonight-!”

Jack had no intention of telling his roommate the truth, but he was too giddy with excitement to prevent those words from slipping out.

Finch didn’t answer. Jack kicked off his boots. “Man, that was-! Shit …” He laughed quietly.

Still, no sound came from the other side of the room.

Jack noticed the uncharacteristic silence and glanced up. “You OK …?”

“Hm …” Finch shifted as though snapping himself out of a trance. He was pale – paler than usual, Jack noticed; his eyes a little too glazed.

“What’s wrong?” Jack felt a pang of concern – this wasn’t right. Finch wasn’t smiling, wasn’t moving. His expression looked haunted, like he’d gone into shock.

Jack swallowed anxiously, mouth suddenly dry.

“Finch …?”

_“Blackburn’s gone.”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would be super grateful if you could please check out all this lovely art (there's some new ones!!!) and support the artists who gifted this fic with some beautiful works!!!! Please!!!!!!  
> (https://outtamylawn.tumblr.com/tagged/poison+gold+art)
> 
> I would like to consider this chapter the calm before the storm. :'3


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